Brotherly Love
by Letting it Go
Summary: "One day you will wear the crown, my son, but it does not make you King…" Several years after the Great Thaw, Elsa is the proud mother of two wonderful sons. The boys grow up as best friends, until a tragic accident leaves the elder brother hateful and bitter. He starts abusing his icy magic and his title as Crown Prince. Can Elsa save her family and kingdom, before it is too late?
1. Happily Ever After

**This story is a semi-sequel to Playing Dirty, and begins right where the epilogue (Chapter 31) left off. Some of the characters from the epilogue, namely Elsa's husband and son, will carry over. But this plot is COMPLETELY separate, and you DON'T have to read the first story in order to understand this one. **

**Please read and review! All opinions are welcome. **

**Chapter 1:**

It was a warm summer night in the fair Kingdom of Arendelle. Twelve gentle chimes emanated from the castle's clock tower, signifying the end of another day. All was silent as the people rested after yet another busy day of commerce and exchange. Aside from a few taverns and motels that still hummed with activity, everyone was peacefully asleep. Northern lights danced gracefully across the inky black sky, casting an elegant glow on the empty streets. The moon and stars smiled down upon a land that was undoubtedly strong and prosperous, yet still blessed with a rugged charm. Not a sound interrupted the calm, except for the wind rustling through the trees and the sound of water lapping against the boats docked in the harbor. Closed stores and empty windows lined the cobblestone streets, waiting for another morning to dawn.

Only a lone figure was wide awake, standing on the castle balcony. Queen Elsa of Arendelle smiled contentedly as she leaned over the railing and gazed across the beautiful, blessed land entrusted to her care. A single snowflake radiated from her fingertips. It swirled softly through the air, like a butterfly in a flowery meadow.

Elsa had recently celebrated her twenty-ninth birthday, but still retained all the youthful beauty she possessed on her Coronation Day. Tears welled in her eyes as she reflected upon the past few years. What a wild ride it had been! _What did I ever do to deserve such a wonderful life?_ As a child, she had surrendered herself to a life of complete and utter alienation. Many years ago, a little blond girl cried herself to sleep behind a locked door, convinced that she was a monster who had hurt her precious baby sister, and must be kept in eternal quarantine. Those were dark days.

But those days were mercifully and miraculously over. Now she had a family and a kingdom she loved so dearly. She was more blessed than she ever dared to hope or imagine. Anna was back by her side. She had gained a brother in Kristoff. She had learned to not only control her powers, but master them. They were no longer a liability, but an asset. Her reign had brought peace and prosperity to the kingdom, and the people were happy.

She also found a wonderful man to spend her life with. That was something she never even dared ponder in her wildest fantasies. Shortly after her twenty-fourth birthday, Elsa had been approached by King Harald of the Northern Isles, one of her deceased father's closest friends and partners in trade. He had implored her to accept his second son Fredrik as a suitor. The man was rude and belligerent at first, with the disastrous courtships of his past embittering him to the idea of marriage. But they soon warmed up to each other, and he proposed six months later.

Now in a few short weeks, she would become a mother for the second time.

But she would be lying to say that the past eight years had been without pain and difficulty. The full moon illuminated the enormous marble statue of her that dominated the town square. Elsa glanced at the statue with a sigh, and became melancholic as she reminisced upon the tumultuous adventure, fraught with heartbreak and sacrifice, which led to its creation. Then she glanced down at her own hands. Her wrists and palms still bore thick, heavy bands of scar tissue.

She gently traced a finger over the scars. There they would forever remain, as an eternal testament of the terrible pain and great love that had delivered the kingdom from unspeakable tragedy.

Elsa tilted back her head to gaze at the stars, wondering if her father could see her. If he would be proud of her. _I miss you so much, Papa. I will always be a good girl for you._ Brushing away a tear, she silently promised to protect and serve Arendelle with her dying breath.

Five years ago, Prince Hans of the Southern Isles had come to Arendelle for revenge. He entered their famous September Harvest Festival disguised as a performer, and surreptitiously filled seven hundred drinks with a most foul and hideous poison. Elsa still shuddered at the memory of children shrieking in agony, clawing out their eyes and ripping open their throats as blood, bile and a thick black sludge dribbled from their mouths.

Hans revealed himself the next day, offering the antidote in exchange for her hand in marriage. He then proceeded to bombard her with an endless barrage of physical and verbal abuse in the next few days. Elsa went behind his back, discovering the cure to the mysterious poison through consultation with Grand Pabbie and countless hours of researching the library's every book on alchemy and natural science.

Unfortunately for her, the antidote would require the blood and marrow of an ice-bearer, willingly given. Nearly two liters of blood for seven hundred poison victims. It was a torturous journey to produce and deliver the antidote, and she nearly died dozens of times along the way. But watching its healing magic at work, restoring the people to perfect health and wholeness, repaid every moment of pain. The statue was commissioned two months later, as a tribute to her heroism in what would become known as the Great Sacrifice.

Hans had also become a wonderfully changed man by the journey's end. The two remained close friends, and even now, were in regular correspondence.

It still hurt to remember that cold obsidian knife being driven through her wrists, obliterating every nerve and tendon in its path, and cleaving the bone in two. There was still a chronic soreness and stiffness in both hands, and her wrists would never regain full mobility. But Elsa never regretted her loss. She would make the same decision if the opportunity ever arose again, although she hoped and prayed that it wouldn't. _Love will thaw_, she thought wordlessly. A gentle flurry of snowflakes spiraled through the air upon command. Elsa dissipated her creation with a smile. _And love will heal._

* * *

><p>A soft pattering of footsteps echoed behind her. A little boy with tousled blonde hair and bright cerulean eyes stood in the doorway leading to the balcony. He clutched a light blue blanket in one hand and a teddy bear in the other, as he tried to creep forward inconspicuously. Finally, as he came within striking distance, little Prince Jon leapt at his mother. "Boo!"<p>

Elsa's face lit up at the sight of her baby, as she pulled him up into a hug. "Hello snowflake."

The almost-four-year-old pouted. "Aw, no fair!"

She planted a soft kiss on his forehead. "Sorry darling, but Mommy isn't that easy to scare." _Please don't accept that as a challenge._

The toddler covered a yawn and buried his face in his mother's shoulder. "But Auntie Anna is really easy to scare." He suddenly became awake and energetic again, as he told his story. His chubby little hands gestured wildly as he proudly explained his triumph. "Yesterday me and Kristen hided under the dinner table and yelled BOO! Then Auntie Anna falled out of her chair and landed in the chocolate cake. And then Kai chased us everywhere. Kristen got caught, but he couldn't not catch me because I'm too fast. But then I hitted Kai's butt with a snowball, and Kristen got away too."

"That wasn't very nice, snowflake. You kids made quite a big mess," Elsa chided gently. "Sometimes you might think that Kai is mean and bossy, but he does these things because he cares about you."

But it was hard to stifle a grin at the memory of Anna screaming words a princess shouldn't know, as she leapt several meters into the air and face-planted into the dinner table. The entire floor was instantly covered with spilled food and broken plates. A chorus of childish giggling erupted as Jon and five-year-old Princess Kristen, Anna and Kristoff's daughter, emerged from underneath the tablecloth. The pint-sized miscreants made a mad dash for the door, with an irate Kai lumbering after them.

Jon crossed his little arms and gave a pouting puppy-dog face that was so reminiscent of young Anna. "But it was funny! I like pranks!"

"It was funny for you, but it wasn't funny for Kai. And it wasn't funny for the people who cleaned up the mess, or the people who were trying to enjoy their dinner." She kissed the little boy on the cheek and rubbed his back soothingly. "It's okay to have fun, but you don't want to upset anybody." He nodded in understanding.

Elsa slowly sat down and pulled him into her lap. "Why don't you kids prank Mommy and Auntie Anna instead? If you only do nice pranks that won't hurt anyone, we'll prank you back. How does that sound, snowflake?"

"Yes!" Jon screamed in excitement. "Prank war!" He bounced onto the sofa and began jumping around swinging his teddy bear like a sword, whacking everything in sight. "Hiyah! Take that, you stupid dragon!" Elsa caught him just as he was about to tumble into a bookcase.

"Mommy? Kai said I need to learn re-re-reponsability. What does that mean?"

She brushed back his platinum blonde locks. "_Responsibility_ can mean many different things. But I think Kai was reminding you to think before you act."

"So why doesn't Kristen need to learn responsablility?"

Elsa was tired, and it was too late to be giving life lessons. But these were things that had to be said. "She does too. Everyone needs to be responsible, snowflake. Everyone needs to think about how their actions might affect other people." But this simple inquiry had far deeper implications. As Arendelle's next monarch, Jon would always face higher demands and expectations than his cousin, even though she was older. Elsa knew that nothing was more aggravating to a child, and nothing was more apt to produce resentment, than perceived inequality or double standards perpetuated by adults.

But the crown prince seemed satisfied with this explanation. He wasn't quite aware of this discrepancy yet. It was far too early to taint his childhood with a lengthy monologue about the burdens of kingship. For now, it was best he remain in blissful naivete.

"It's getting late. Little princes should be in bed right now. Would you like to read a story or sing a song?"

Jon shook his head and sucked his thumb. "I can't sleep. Uncle Kristoff is snoring too loud."

She tousled his hair affectionately. "I told you not to eat so much sugar after dinner, sweetie. It keeps you awake."

"Then why are you awake?" The child's eyes glistened mischievously.

"Mommy couldn't sleep either. The baby was kicking." Elsa answered truthfully. "Here, I want you to feel this." She placed his hand over her swollen belly. A soft, rhythmic thump could be felt.

Jon looked up at her in confusion. "Why is the baby kicking me? Gerda said that kicking is not nice."

The Snow Queen smiled lovingly at her firstborn. "The baby is kicking because it wants to come out. He or she can't wait to meet you. Soon you'll have a little brother or sister to play with."

The child leaned forward and rested one cheek against his mother's stomach. "Hey, little brother or sister! Can you hear me? You're making Mommy fat! Hurry up and come out! Then we can ride our bikes and build a snowman and steal chocolate from Auntie Anna." Jon hesitated, then waved his hands around to create a sprinkle of snowflakes. "Look what I can do!"

Elsa couldn't hold back a chuckle at his adorable ramblings. He may have inherited her icy magic, but his effervescent personality had certainly come from Anna. "Snowflake, the baby will be here before you know it. You two are going to be best friends." She reached down to stroke his head, but Jon had fallen asleep. With a warm smile, she cradled him in her arms and carried him back to bed.

As she made her way back to the balcony in peace and quiet, Elsa was overcome with tender feelings towards her unborn child, whom she already loved every bit as much as she loved Jon. She would do everything to make sure that her babies would have a happier childhood than herself and Anna. "The sky's awake, little one. In a few weeks, you will begin a journey through this beautiful, mysterious thing called life. Mommy, Daddy, and Big Brother can't wait to meet you."

The baby gave a sharp little kick. Elsa smiled and continued speaking. "We love you more than you will ever know. You will never be shut out. Or shut in. You will never stand on either side of a locked door."

Then she realized that this child would face a different set of challenges than Jon would. Tears welled in her eyes as her mind flashed back to her childhood days. Tutors, foreign diplomats, and even the townspeople often belittled Anna for her clumsiness. For her awkwardness. For her rambling, incoherent manner of speech. For not being a proper princess. For not being as intellectually gifted as her sister. Though the younger girl had tried to act tough and maintain her ebullient façade, Elsa could always tell how deeply their snide remarks had wounded her.

"You will never be just a spare," she whispered. "No one will ever make you feel unimportant, or treat you with anything less than the love and respect you deserve. Mommy once knew a little girl who was told that she was just a spare. But she grew up to become the strongest, bravest, most loving person Arendelle has ever seen."

The tears began to fall. "If you or your brother grows up to be like Auntie Anna, then our family and our kingdom will have gained a wonderful new member."

The clock struck three. Northern lights continued to swirl across the tranquil sky. With a protective arm draped over her belly and a content smile on her face, Queen Elsa of Arendelle lay back on the sofa and drifted into a peaceful slumber.


	2. Prince Robert of Arendelle

**Chapter 2:**

A bloodcurdling scream rang throughout the entire kingdom, as a thick blanket of snow covered everything within several hundred meters of the castle. The townspeople all knew exactly what was happening. They made sure to dress warmly and be prepared for anything.

In the royal bedchambers, King Fredrik of Arendelle knelt at the bedside, his heart breaking as his wife cried out in agony. She was in pain and it was his fault. The entire castle was getting dangerously cold, and she had his hand locked in a bone-crushing grip. But he hardly noticed or cared.

"The head is crowning," Gerda called from the foot of the bed. "Keep pushing. You're almost there."

Elsa clenched her teeth to bite back a scream, as another wave of pain ripped through her lower abdomen. "You have to go! All of you!" she pleaded desperately. An explosion of ice filled the room. But no one moved a muscle.

"I'm completely out of control. You're going to get hurt!"

Fredrik took her face gently into his large, calloused hands. "You aren't doing this alone, my love. We're right here for you."

Elsa paused for a moment, then spoke in a tortured whisper, "Put me in the dungeons until it's over."

"No! Anna shouted. "Do you even hear what you're saying? You are NOT giving birth in the dungeons! You are NEVER getting locked up again!"

Kristoff calmed her down quietly. "It's okay, feisty-pants. She doesn't really mean it."

"No, I'm serious." Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. "I'm going to freeze Arendelle again."

Fredrik leaned over and planted a kiss on her cheek. "And you'll know exactly how to unfreeze it."

The contractions were growing in frequency and strength. Elsa clung to her husband and let out a piercing scream. "Please, make it stop!"

Fredrik patted her soothingly on the back. "You're doing great, baby. You're the strongest person I know." His fingers brushed over the ugly scars on her wrist. _You've been through worse, _he thought sadly_. And you've got the marks to prove it._

He still winced when he thought of what she went through five years ago. Elsa had been through more pain than anyone should endure in a thousand lifetimes, and he certainly hadn't helped. Sometimes Fredrik still struggled to forgive himself for how he behaved in the early stages of their courtship. He had been so rude and selfish.

Before long, he became completely enamored with her kindness and intelligence, and not just her beauty. Despite being thirteen years his junior, she was wise and mature beyond her years. But she had certainly been a hard nut to crack. Elsa wouldn't even let him kiss her until they were married, and she wasn't ready to consummate their marriage until several months after the wedding. She was slow to open up, and it hadn't been easy to break the ice.

However, it wasn't hard to see that she truly had an infinite capacity for love. There was an endearing sweetness to her character that he very distinctly observed from how she interacted with others. There was no better example than the Great Sacrifice. The poor girl had willingly faced death and mortal injury no fewer than a dozen times, to save seven hundred people whose names and faces she hardly knew.

Behind the castle walls, she showed the same compassion and thoughtfulness. Fredrik reminisced upon the bygone days before their marriage. His heart melted as he recalled how she so patiently spoke to those pigheaded advisors, never forcing them into compliance, but instead winning them over with reason and diplomacy. He thought of how Elsa used to work herself ragged into the late hours of the night, going far beyond the call of duty and necessity to make Arendelle a wonderful place to live. She had developed chronic arthritis from being skewered through the wrists. It became impossible for her to hold a pen for more than a few hours at a time, without both hands becoming paralyzed in excruciating pain. But she never forsook her duties. At least once a month, he would see Kai dragging Elsa out of her study and into bed, as she lay slumped over the desk with tears in both eyes and ice wrapped around her swollen, bloodied knuckles. It was a heartrending scene.

"Please, I'm fine! That document is very important!" she had tried to insist, though she could hardly breathe through the pain.

"Nonsense." Kai pulled a nightgown over her head and tossed her onto the mattress. "Your health comes first."

But it was the playful, childlike Elsa that he loved best. Fredrik grinned ear to ear as he thought back to the moment he truly fell in love with her.

* * *

><p><em>Four years ago (and approx. 9 months after the events of Playing Dirty)…<em>

The sun was radiant in the immaculately cloudless June sky. School was out, giving way to three months of fun and frolicking. "Frostyland" was packed with children and families every single day from dawn to dusk. People never tired of the aesthetic marvel or the flawless engineering that made up the icy amusement park. It was also a convenient getaway from the sometimes oppressive summer heat.

Small wooden sailboats covered the fjords under the afternoon sun. The kingdom had extensive beaches and coastlines, and water sports were a popular recreational activity. Others sunbathed on the warm white sand or fished along the docks. It was a happy, laid-back time of the year.

But the highlight of the summer season would always be Arendelle's famous county fair, which would span the entire month of June. Since the gates had opened, the royal family could commonly be found mingling with the townspeople. Anna was practically one of the children, as she would go crazy with delight at the simplest things. Elsa and Kristoff preferred to maintain a low profile, and were cautious about drawing attention in public.

This time, Anna was determined to force her sister out of her comfort zone. She had gone behind Elsa's back and signed her up to be the target in sponge-throwing at the fair. The older girl was horrified at first, but relented after much persuasion (and even more puppy-dog faces).

Soon enough, Elsa was stationed in a painted wooden stall with her head poking out a hole. Her hair and clothes were thoroughly soaked from being hit by wet sponges throughout the entire day, but she was all smiles.

A sandy-haired boy wearing a red baseball cap and a cocky smirk stepped forward eagerly. Elsa guessed he was six or seven years old. "Hey Frosty! You know I'm going to win, right? I never miss!" His voice was full of bravado, as he smashed a sponge into her face at point-blank range.

Elsa brushed back her sopping hair and gave him a little smile. "If you make all five throws, you get that nice jar of Swiss chocolate over there."

The boy puffed out his chest. "Yeah yeah, whatever. Just give it to me right now." He was comically ostentatious as he pranced into line. "Out of my way. The king of sponges is here!" He roughly pushed other children aside as he moved towards the end of the line. The crowd was noisy, but she could hear his loud, shrill voice continuously mocking other people for missed throws. Finally it was his turn.

"I'm gonna knock your head off, Frosty!" He curled back his arm and performed an incredibly pretentious wind-up that took almost an entire minute.

One of the fair workers tapped his foot impatiently. "Come on, buddy. There are other people waiting."

The boy released the sponge. It missed by about five feet.

Someone standing in line snickered under his breath, "Wow kid, you really suck."

The child started to become incredibly defensive. "No! Wait! That wasn't my super awesome power throw. Watch this!"

The people standing in line were getting irritated. He was taking much longer than he should've, and was wasting everyone's time. The second throw spectacularly failed as well.

A teenager snorted derisively. "I think Frosty's falling asleep over there!"

The youngster was getting more and more incensed. The third and fourth sponges also missed by a comfortable margin. More skeptical jeers arose from the people standing behind him.

"No fair!" he screamed hysterically. He kicked the water bucket over. His face was scrunched up with anger. The boy then threw his hat onto the ground and stomped on it viciously, grinding the red fabric into the dirt.

The worker was also getting irritated, "Hey kid, are you gonna keep playing? If not, you need to step aside so that other people can have their turn."

One of the guards happened to be walking by behind Elsa. "Don't you wish you'd let this kid die?" he mumbled out the corner of his mouth.

The boy was on his last sponge, and was incredibly worked up at this point. Everyone was fed up and rooting for him to fail. He did a wild throw that missed by nearly ten feet.

"Next," the worker prepared some sponges for the next person in line.

"No fair! I need another turn!" he screamed hysterically. He refused to budge.

"You already had your turn. There are other people waiting. Go to the end of the line if you want to play again."

The child grabbed several more sponges and wildly chucked them, but didn't come close. Finally, several workers managed to drag him, kicking and screaming unintelligibly, out of the way. He managed to break free for one moment, and hurled a big handful of mud.

This time, he was right on target.

_Some time later…_

Elsa wiped the mud from her face as she climbed out of the sponge-throwing stall. Anna would take over for the next few minutes, as she went to take care of some business. Her bright sapphire eyes flitted over the crowd, until she found what she was looking for. Sitting alone on a bench, with his head lowered and tears running down his reddened cheeks, was the boastful boy. He looked so forlorn and miserable, and her heart ached.

The child had shown abysmal sportsmanship, and one could certainly say that it was a fitting comeuppance. But the little tyke had humiliated himself in public, and had been mocked and reviled by hundreds of people in a moment of vulnerability. That was punishment enough. Now was the time for comfort and nurture, not for judgment and scolding. She sat a few feet away from him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

The child glanced sideways and brushed away a tear. "You're here to tell me that I suck, right?" he mumbled miserably.

"No, I'm here to return this." Elsa pulled out the red baseball cap he had been wearing earlier, and removed every fleck of dirt and mud with a handful of snow. The boy tentatively reached out and took it back.

"I know… I suck."

"You don't suck. Nobody's perfect. You just had some bad luck."

The pain and anger receded from his eyes, as he scooted closer to her. "Why did those people have to be so mean?" The tears began welling again at the memory. He buried his face into her dress and sobbed.

Elsa patted him on the hand comfortingly. "It was wrong for them to say those things. Nobody should be made fun of when they've tried their best."

A few minutes passed. When the child began to calm down, she decided that it was a good time to drop a gentle hint that he wasn't completely innocent either.

"That little blonde boy was also really hurt when you called him a _fat ugly loser_."

"But I was only joking."

"It's okay to joke. But we have to know when to stop. If someone gets upset, then it isn't funny anymore."

He stopped crying at this point, as he looked at her wide-eyed. "But I really am good at sponge-throwing. I just don't know what happened today."

"I believe you." She reached into her pocket to pull out a single wrapped chocolate truffle, and laid it in his palm. "The fair is still open tomorrow. Can we all try to have better sportsmanship next time? No more name-calling?"

A smile flickered across his tearstained eyes, as he nodded. "Thanks Frosty… and I'm sorry about the mud."

Elsa smiled and twirled her fingers to return her ice dress to its original pristine state. "Don't worry about that, sweetie."

* * *

><p><em>Back to the present<em>

Crown Prince Jon of Arendelle screamed and sobbed with terror as his mother's cries tore through the entire castle. The four year-old struggled viciously to reach the door behind which she writhed in unspeakable agony. But Kai held him back gently but firmly.

"Let me in! Let me in! Mommy's going to die!" Icy tears poured down his cheeks.

The older man hugged the little boy tightly to his chest, and spoke in a grandfatherly demeanor. "Mommy isn't going to die. She's just having a baby. Soon you'll be a big brother."

Five year-old Kristen was calmer, but visibly distraught as well. "But I heard that mommies can die when having babies."

Kai bit his lip and silently cursed his predicament. How on earth had he managed to land into this conversation? He chose his words carefully, making sure to convey an accurate message without scaring the children. "It's true. People can die when giving birth. But it doesn't happen very much." He knelt down and wrapped an arm around each child. "Your mommies are the two strongest, bravest women Arendelle has ever seen. They have made it through far more difficult situations. I am confident that everything will be fine."

Just as abruptly as it started, the ice thawed and the warmth of summer flooded back into the castle. All was calm and quiet. Kai smiled to himself. _Well done, Elsa. I never doubted you for a moment._

A door opened. Fredrik entered the room, beaming from ear to ear. "Daddy?" Jon sucked his thumb nervously and looked up at his father with wide, imploring eyes. "Is Mommy okay?"

Fredrik rumpled his platinum blonde hair affectionately. "Of course, kiddo. Now let's go see Mommy. She has a wonderful surprise for you." Father and son stepped into the hallway and up the spiral staircase hand-in-hand. Jon was practically quivering with excitement at the "wonderful surprise" that awaited him.

Finally, they made it to the royal bedchambers. "Mommy!" Jon threw open the door and bounded inside. His mother sat upright in bed, covered in sweat and looking utterly exhausted. Her normally pristine hair a mess, and clung to her face in sopping tendrils. But Jon had never seen her so happy.

"Come, snowflake," she smiled softly and beckoned him forward. "I want you to meet someone very special."

Jon clambered onto the bed and snuggled next to his mother. In her arms was a bundle of blankets. He carefully leaned in and took a closer took. A tiny pink face peeked out at him with wide aqua eyes.

Elsa patted him lovingly on the back. "This is your brother, Robert."

"He's so small," Jon commented innocently.

Elsa laughed and kissed him gently. "You used to be this small too, snowflake."

Jon scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. "Will he get bigger, so I can play with him?"

His mother nodded. "Of course, snowflake. The two of you will be the best of friends. But you will always be his big brother." Elsa beamed at her firstborn. "Would you like to hold him?" she carefully passed the bundle to Jon.

The four year-old stared in wonder at the beautiful, wide-eyed baby, and the baby stared back. As they locked eyes, Jon reached gently into the bundle of blankets and found one of Robert's hands. The chubby little fingers wrapped themselves around his thumb. Beneath the warm touch, the older boy's heart overflowed with affection. He had found someone he would forever love and protect. For as long as they both lived, his baby brother would never be lonely or scared. Jon knew he had found his best friend for life. He began to sing softly.

_Hello little baby, you're a prince just like me,_

_Bet you're thinking maybe, that's a pretty cool thing to be._

_But soon you'll see that everyone expects a lot from you,_

_They say that there are things that princes should and shouldn't do._

_But you and me, we… we know better…_


	3. What Brothers are For

**Poor Elsa… It's her day off, and she spends it getting bombarded with wet sponges (and mud), and giving life lessons. Can't Frosty ever catch a break?**

**Whoa, has it been 1 year already since Frozen came out?**

**Thank you so much to all who are reading and reviewing. Now prepare yourselves for a massive inundation of fluff in Chapter 3, and the next few chapters as well.**

**Without further ado, Chapter 3:**

Nearly one year had passed since Prince Robert of Arendelle came into the world. The royal family was abuzz with excitement, as they prepared to celebrate the birthday of their youngest—and most doted-on—member.

No one was more excited than his brother and cousin, who were determined to make the day a most memorable one. The older children were determined to teach him how to walk before the day was over.

Baby Robert cooed happily and waved his chubby little arms in the air, as six year-old Kristen gently set him on his feet. She held him upright in a standing position, giving him enough autonomy but making sure he wouldn't topple over.

Five year-old Jon was situated on the other side of the room, squatting on the carpet with his arms held out. Kristen smiled warmly at the infant and patted his soft, wispy hair. "Come on Robbie, go to Big Brother!" She slowly loosened her hold.

The baby's sea-green eyes were wide and bright. _Big Brother_. Little Robert had no idea what those words meant. But some mysterious intuition in his infant brain compelled him forward. Buried deep within the recesses of his subconscious were vague memories of those bright sapphire eyes, glistening with love and tenderness, as they welcomed him into the world twelve months ago. That musical voice and those gentle hands that had soothed him to sleep night after night in the castle nursery, beneath the glow of Northern lights. Those strong, protective arms that would always be wide open to him.

The toddler took a few wobbly steps and fell onto his bottom. He clambered precariously back to his feet. Somehow he knew he had a special connection to that blonde-haired boy on the other side of the room, and he was determined to cement that connection.

"Come on Robbie, you can do it!" Jon called out in encouragement.

Soon he was on the floor again. With each attempt, the infant came closer to reaching his goal. But he couldn't even make it halfway across the room. Fear began to accumulate in his tiny little body. What if he never learned to walk? What if his Big Brother stopped loving him, because he could never be good enough? Baby Robert threw himself onto the soft carpet in a fit of frustration and burst into noisy tears.

"Don't cry, Robbie!" Jon rushed forward and pulled his baby brother into a hug. But Robert was crying far too loudly to hear a thing. The older boy looked nervously at his cousin, but she seemed equally bewildered. Ice began to creep up the walls of the room, at the Snow Prince's discomfort.

It was a Saturday afternoon, and the three children were supposed to be napping. They had sneaked out of bed and into the playroom with no supervision. Jon and Kristen exchanged uneasy glances. The older children would certainly face an emphatic scolding if they were found out. With Robert's screams intensifying, it was more than likely that their clandestine operation would soon be uncovered.

"Look, Robbie! Watch this!" Jon waved his fingers to create a sprinkle of snowflakes in the air. The crown prince knew he wasn't supposed to perform his magic in front of Robert outside of his mother's supervision. But surely the situation warranted an exception.

As a single snowflake landed on his button-nose, the baby stopped crying. He gaped in wonder at the magical apparition, then burst into a fit of giggles. He flailed his chubby little hands through the air, trying to catch more snowflakes as they fell. The ice began to thaw.

* * *

><p>It was lunchtime, and the children were situated at the dining table. Their parents were busy attending some meetings, which left the servants and maids in charge of the young royals. Gerda was trying unsuccessfully to feed a very fussy Robert, who whined and pouted and squirmed incessantly. Amorphous blobs of chewed-up food, of varying colors and consistencies, were splattered randomly across the tabletop and floor.<p>

The youngest prince of Arendelle puckered his lips and spat an enormous glob of mashed peas into Gerda's face. The portly older woman sighed and wiped her face clean of the gooey projectile. "Just like your Auntie Anna used to be," she said with a half-amused, half-exasperated smile.

"Was Mommy a picky eater?" Jon inquired.

Gerda laughed. "Your Mommy was a very well-behaved baby. She would eat whatever was put in front of her. Except for asparagus. Mommy would freeze the entire castle every time we tried to feed her asparagus."

"I hate asparagus too." Kristen reported proudly. "Auntie Elsa and Uncle Fredrik should ban it from Arendelle."

_Splat!_ A loud squelching sound echoed resonantly throughout the dining hall, as another mouthful of food landed squarely on Gerda's nose. "Robert!" she exclaimed.

"Can I try feeding him?" Jon asked, standing up from his chair.

"Here you go," Gerda rubbed her forehead and brushed back her graying hair with a weary sigh. She gestured weakly at small bowl of baby food sitting on the table. "I'm completely out of ideas."

Jon dipped the little spoon into the greenish-yellow mush that had been the major source of conflict and contention for the past hour. "Hey Robbie," his voice was slow and soft. "I know you don't like yucky vegetables, but you've gotta eat. Then you'll grow up big and strong, so you can play with us. And you can't keep spitting, because Mommy doesn't like it when you do that." Robert stopped fussing as he stared at Jon with big wide eyes.

The older boy then tried the one thing he knew could always successfully pacify his little brother. He swirled his hands about to create a glowing blue ball of light that shimmered ethereally. The baby's tiny mouth fell open and his eyes remained transfixed on the mystical phenomenon. Jon smoothly slid the spoonful of mashed peas into Robert's agape mouth. The pasty green sludge was swallowed with no resistance.

* * *

><p>Late in the night, a storm raged across the murky October sky. Little Prince Robert screamed in terror as erratic flashes of lightning and booms of thunder erupted against the windows of the castle nursery. Everyone was exhausted and the castle was utterly devoid of activity, but his cries would not go unnoticed. The keen ears of his big brother were forever receptive to the slightest sign of distress in the infant.<p>

Jon carefully lifted Robert from his cradle and hugged him close to his chest. "Don't be scared, Robbie. It's only a little thunder."

Another cacophonous explosion of thunder shook the entire room, eliciting a soft whimper from Baby Robert. The terrified infant buried his face into his brother's nightshirt. "You're okay Robbie, I've got you." Jon brushed back the wispy bangs and planted a little kiss on the baby's forehead. "I'm always here for you. That's what brothers are for."

That simple but heartwarming profession of fraternal love placated the infant. The younger boy stopped crying and cooed contentedly in the embrace of his big brother. Jon smiled down at the bundle of warmth in his arms, and twirled his fingers through the air to create a light dusting of snowflakes. The dainty crystals drifted down from the ceiling and enveloped the boys in a microcosmic winter wonderland. Robert emitted a high-pitched squeal of laughter. Big Brother had an endless repertoire of charms that never ceased to amaze and delight him. But nothing enraptured the youngest prince more than that soothing voice and those bright blue eyes that possessed an almost magical ability to mollify his unspoken fears, assuage his uncertainties, and calm the storm within. That was the greatest magic of all.

The storm gradually came to a halt. The clouds of darkness and uncertainty dissipated into the night, giving way to tranquil skies and serene minds. Beneath the gentle caress of the full moon, the brothers happily drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

**Apologies for a short chapter! The next ones will be a little longer :)**


	4. Baby Steps

**Very sorry for the delay in releasing Chapter 4! I just watched Frozen for the 20****th**** time last night, and it dawned on me that I should update soon. Thank you all for your support. Please continue to read and review!**

**Chapter 4:**

Elsa sat up straight in her chair and tried to suppress the irritation from her voice, as she addressed the Weselton delegate. "What kind of precedent would we be setting if we comply with your demands? Show the world we can tolerate an unprovoked attack against our people, an act of _terrorism_, and resume commercial relations as if nothing happened?"

Lord Herman shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The young blonde-haired woman possessed one of the brightest minds in politics and statecraft, as did her consort. But her strongest attribute was the ability to rule by force of personality. Everyone knew that Queen Elsa was the nicest, warmest, gentlest person ever. But she had the uncanny ability to enrapture and intimidate an audience, to command respect, without having to raise her voice or display the slightest sign of aggression. That was her true magic.

She continued in a steady, even tone. "Please recall that we have been willing to compromise in the past. Until the invasion five years ago, we've invited King Magnus to Arendelle several times to negotiate a lift on the dissolution. The people of Weselton should not suffer because of one man's ignorance, and furthermore, one could reasonably posit that the absurdities surrounding my coronation had put him in a state of temporary insanity. But the Duke has simply gone too far this time. There is nothing temporary about the man's insanity. I'm sorry, but we cannot entertain further talks of reconciliation."

"Your Majesty, I plead with you to reconsider. I am here today because I know that you are a kind and merciful queen. Like the rest of the continent, I know what happened six years ago. There is not an educated person on the planet who is ignorant to the Great Sacrifice. You would give your life for the children of Arendelle. What about the children of Weselton? Is there any difference between the two, aside from the superficial veneer of national origin? Could you let _our_ children live in want, just to perpetuate an antiquated grudge and ultimatum?"

King Fredrik silenced him with an icy glare. "Your emotional blackmail will get you nowhere. Forgiveness is not a lack of consequences, and compassion is not an unconditional tolerance for bad behavior. This matter will not be discussed further. Kai, will you please escort Lord Herman to his room?"

The Weselton dignitary was now visibly frazzled, as his chances of negotiating a desirable outcome grew alarmingly dim. He spoke in a frenzied tone. "Your Majesty, before we adjourn our talks, allow me to—"

"Permission denied. You've said enough." Fredrik cut him off curtly.

Lord Herman glared at him crossly. "There is no need for such rudeness, my king. Any political dissension that may exist between our kingdoms ought not to preclude common courtesy on a personal level. I was merely going to say that I had the pleasure of sharing a few words with little Prince Jon earlier in the day." Lord Herman smiled broadly. "Such a delightful lad, and so much poise and maturity for a child so young. His communication skills are astounding, too. How old is he, may I ask?"

Elsa softened at these words, as her eyes filled with pride and affection. "Our little Jon is five years old. But his math and reading skills are on par with a child of seven. He _is_ very clever, and such a sweet little boy too."

The visiting dignitary continued, "We had a delightful conversation this morning at breakfast. He was telling me all about Arendelle's Yuletide festival next month. It's his favorite time of the year, isn't it?"

Elsa smiled broadly and nodded. "He absolutely loves the Christmas season."

Lord Herman patted her affectionately on the shoulder. "As handsome as his father, as bright as his mother, and as sweet as his aunt. He will make a fine king one day." The pompous man adjusted his wig and stroked his mustache, before continuing in a saccharine tone, "All this talk about Christmas has really put me in a festive mood, I must say. It's a magical time of the year, not just for the children. A time to let peace and goodwill prevail over all the tumult and strife of daily living, as we commemorate the birth of our Lord and all the implications of his life and death. But I digress. Would our dear little Jon fancy a bicycle for Christmas this year? I intended to purchase it for my nephew, but he already has one. Perhaps you would like to have a look?" Lord Herman gave a quick nod to one of his bodyguards, and the man bowed and left the room.

A few minutes later, he was back with a child-sized bicycle and a flat, rectangular box the size of a dinner platter.

Lord Herman caressed the bicycle frame with a pudgy finger. "It's the latest model, and it cost a fortune. I'm sure Jon will love it. Robert too, once he's older. And as for you, Your Majesties, I have likewise prepared a gift tailored to your likings and aptitudes." He placed the leatherbound box neatly on the tabletop, and lifted the lid to reveal magnificent chess set.

With eyes shining and fingers trembling, Lord Herman stroked the checkered surface of the board reverently. "Every piece is solid gold. The board is carved of the finest white marble. Truly a beautiful work of art. Almost as beautiful as you, snowflake." With a smug little smile, he reached out a hand to pinch Elsa on the cheek, until an enraged Fredrik shoved him back. He wrapped a protective arm around his wife and glared menacingly at the shorter man.

"My sources tell me that in the days of your courtship, your camaraderie was cemented through a game of chess. I am also privy to the knowledge that your marriage was propositioned not with a ring, but with a chess set made of Venetian glass. My queen, is it not true that you have been undefeated in chess since you were fifteen years old?" Elsa nodded shyly.

Fredrik spoke in a flat, emotionless tone. "Your timing is impeccable, Lord Herman. Is it merely a coincidence that you chose to bring these gifts just two weeks before the big trade summit in Copenhagen?"

Elsa lifted the chess set and shifted it between her hands. Then she picked up a few pieces and tossed them up and down a few inches. "This seems awfully insubstantial for something made of solid gold. I thought it'd be at least three times heavier." Without another word, she seized a large iron paperweight in one hand, and slammed it into the pieces.

"What the hell are you doing?" Lord Herman screamed.

Elsa calmly lifted the paperweight. There was not a dent or scratch on the chess pieces. "Zero yield, zero malleability. This isn't gold at all. And this _state-of-the-art_ bike that cost you a fortune? You probably just pulled it out of the dump."

To prove her point, she waved a hand to conjure a snowy humanoid to ride the bike. The frame creaked loudly and the bicycle bobbed side to side. The snow-person pedaled furiously, but the wheels continued to spin at a painfully laborious and inefficient pace.

"The transmission is garbage. The gear ratio is not at all conducive to maximization of stability and torque. The beams of the frame are positioned to sustain only seventy-five percent maximum axial load. Finally, the kingpin inclination ought to be reduced by at least half a radian, to achieve a reasonable turn radius. This model is completely out of date. "

Lord Herman opened his mouth wordlessly to try and refute her stinging indictment of his phony gifts. But Fredrik would not give him the chance. He had neither the patience nor the time to indulge another moment. Fredrik slammed his massive fists on the table with a deafening crack.

"You are so full of shit! Every time there's a big trade summit coming up, you weasel your way into Arendelle with some sob story about hungry children and a big pile of trash that you call peace offerings! It's a shame. Lies and sycophancy have always been your area of expertise. But you aren't even good at that. Now get the fuck out of Arendelle. If you or your bastard Duke of Weaseltown ever show your faces again—"

Elsa grabbed her husband by the arm. "Fredrik, language!" The King of Arendelle was a righteous and respectable man, but he had a most fearsome temper. Most of the townspeople carried a healthy fear of him, and could not speak to him with the same closeness and comfort as they could with Elsa.

Fredrik ignored her and flipped the table. "I said, get the fuck out of here!"

* * *

><p>No sooner had the Weasel and his personal attendants scurried out of the throne room, did the doors burst open again. It was Kristen, followed by Jon holding Robert in his arms. The older children began babbling excitedly all at once, blurting a rapid monologue of unintelligible nonsense.<p>

Fredrik was still slightly annoyed. "Kids, you know you aren't supposed to come in here during meetings."

Elsa patted him on the shoulder. "It's not a problem. I'm sure Jon and Kristen have something important to share." Then she mumbled under her breath, "More important than anything Lord Herman has to say."

"Robbie can walk!" Jon reported proudly. The crown prince was trembling with excitement. He carefully set the baby on his feet, then took ten bouncy steps in the opposite direction, before kneeling down and holding out his arms. "Over here, Robbie!"

Nothing happened for a minute. Baby Robert stared aimlessly at the floor with his wide sea-green eyes. All was silent.

Jon clapped his hands. "Come on, Robbie! Show Mommy and Daddy what you can do!"

That did the trick. The youngest prince of Arendelle lifted a pudgy little foot into the air, and took one wobbly step forward.

Jon threw a small flurry of snowflakes into the air. "That's it! Keep going!"

Step by step, little by little, Robert waddled across the room and into the open arms of Big Brother. Jon lifted him high into the air, and the baby screamed and giggled with delight.

But more than one milestone would be reached on that momentous day. Amidst all the fanfare and adulation, all the frenzied activity transpiring in his infant brain as Robert absorbed and tried to make sense of all the random, disjointed, multifarious details of his environment, there was one vital piece of information that stood out above the rest. Of all the sights and sounds and smells that inundated his mind every day, one had become a permanent and integral part of his consciousness. Little Prince Robert opened his tiny mouth to utter his first word. A single, unmistakable sound.

"Jon."

Tears welled in the older boy's eyes and pride blossomed in his heart. Jon pulled Robert close to his chest and hugged him tighter.

Thirteen months ago, a powerful, inexplicable bond had been formed between two boys who were brothers by birth but friends by choice. Today, it became stronger than ever.

**Robert can talk AND walk! Courtesy of Big Brother. **


	5. We Know Better

**Welcome to Chapter 5! Thank you to everyone who is reading and reviewing. I will be out of town for winter break, so there won't be any chapters posted for the next 2 weeks. But I promise I will resume regular updates as soon as I get back!**

**Chapter 5 is in the spirit of 'We Know Better.' Jon teaching Robert how to be a prince. **

_2 years later… _

"Come on, Robbie! If we hurry, we can buy some cookies and ice cream before the line gets too long!" Seven year-old Jon and three year-old Robert raced down the cobblestone street hand-in-hand. The boys had each been given a small quantity of money to purchase some treats. Kai, Gerda, and two guards followed them at a slight distance, keeping a close watch. Everyone in Arendelle absolutely loved the two little princes, who could often be found mingling in candy stores and engaging people in friendly conversations.

"Here we are!" Jon and Robert skidded to a halt in front of a rustic-looking bakery. An older couple, in their late sixties or early seventies, stood behind the counter.

"Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Dahl." Jon smiled broadly and spoke in his sweetest tone. He nudged at Robert to follow suit. But the younger boy was hardly paying attention. He was bouncing up and down, squealing with glee as a red-haired teenage girl knelt down to offer him a bite-sized sample of chocolate cake.

Jon eagerly hopped forward to help himself to a piece as well. "Thank you, Isabella." He spoke to address the bakers' sixteen year-old granddaughter.

Isabella curtsied back. "My pleasure, Your Highnesses." She reached down to pat Robert on the head.

Jon licked his fingers clean. "Did you know that Mommy eats soooo much chocolate? Yesterday there was no more chocolate in the castle, and Mommy was acting like such a baby. She was lying in bed all day being sad. Then Auntie Anna was all like, _Elsa, grow up! You were getting fat from eating too much chocolate anyways._" His blue eyes were wide and bright, and his hands gestured excitedly as he told the tale.

"Who's Elsa?" Robert asked curiously.

Jon looked at him strangely. "Mommy, of course."

The younger boy shoved another bite of cake into his mouth. "But Mommy's name is Frosty."

Mrs. Dahl smiled at his adorable inquiries, as she knelt down to brush his golden locks behind his ears. The toddler's innocence was too cute to be real. "Sweetie, Mommy's real name is Elsa. But a lot of people call her Frosty for fun, because she has ice powers. In fact, our Isabella used to do that all the time."

Isabella blushed slightly at the mention. "Everybody calls her Frosty, until they're about thirteen or fourteen years old. That's when you're a little too old to do that. Then you have to call her Your Majesty."

Robert licked his chocolate-covered hands. "Why does Mommy have so much names?"

"She doesn't." Isabella reached down with a napkin to wipe a smudge of chocolate from Robert's nose. "Mommy's name is Elsa. Frosty is her _nickname_, and Your Majesty is her _title_."

The conversation suddenly took an awkward and uncomfortable turn. "What does _fuck_ mean?" Jon asked.

Mrs. Dahl gasped. "Prince Jon, where did you hear such a thing?"

Robert piped up. "Daddy!"

The adults don't know whether to burst out laughing, or faint in horror and embarrassment. Finally, Mr. Dahl managed to find his voice again. "Where did Daddy say that word?"

Robert sucked his chocolate-covered thumb and squeezed his teddy bear. "In the big room with blue floor."

"Mommy and Daddy were meeting the Duke of Weaseltown yesterday," Jon explained. "Daddy was really mad. He was all like—" Jon scrunched up his face and tried to imitate Fredrik's booming roar. "_I told you a million times not to come back, you lying, thieving piece of shit! You have imposed your presence on our family and our kingdom for the last time. Get the fuck out Arendelle!_ The Duke of Weaseltown tried to keep talking, but Daddy screamed _I said, get the fuck out of Arendelle! _a hundred more times. Then Daddy flipped the table, and the Duke ran away really scared. Mommy was all like, _Fredrik, watch your language!_"

The adults exchanged uneasy glances. They were certainly not supposed to be privy to such information. But this revelation certainly didn't surprise them. King Fredrik was a good man, but his explosive temper was legendary. He had absolutely zero tolerance for dishonesty or stupidity, and would lash out with the strength of ten men whenever confronted with such individuals. Only Elsa could successfully pacify his wrath.

Robert tugged lightly at Jon's sleeve. "Why Daddy hate the Dude of Weaselton so much? I think he's funny! He look like a chicken."

"Because the _Duke_ is a bad man. Mommy says he pretends to be nice, so he can steal from us," Jon explained

Robert looked up at Isabella with big wide eyes. "So what does _fuck_ mean?"

Mr. Dahl rumpled his sandy blonde hair affectionately. "It's a word that only adults should use, when dealing with bad people. Now don't let Mommy hear you using such language."

_Ding!_ The gentle chime of a silver bell was heard, indicating that a batch of cookies was finished. Little Robert was practically salivating in anticipation. Jon laid a few copper coins on the counter, and wrapped a neat stack of warm, freshly-baked cookies in a bundle of napkins.

"Bye, Mr. and Mrs. Dahl! Bye, Isabella! See you on Friday!" The boys tripped over their feet as they dashed out the door, giggling with glee. Jon grabbed Robert's pudgy little hand. "Come on, Robbie! Let's go get some ice cream!"

* * *

><p>Jon and Robert made a mad dash through the streets, weaving through the crowds. They sprinted forward in single-minded impatience, ignoring Kai's shouts for them to slow down.<p>

"Here we are!" The boys hunched over to catch their breaths as they arrived at their favorite ice cream shop. But their excitement began to wither at the sight of a rather long line that had formed.

People bowed and stepped aside, offering the little princes immediate access to the ice cream counter. Robert began to push forward eagerly, but Jon held him back. "No, Robbie. We need to wait in line, like everybody else."

"But why?" Tears of heartbreak and betrayal began to well up in his three year-old eyes.

Jon sighed. He was so tempted to accept the offer, and dance flauntingly to the front of the line. But for as long as he could remember, his mother had always reminded him firmly but gently that their royal status did not exempt them from courtesy and civility.

"You know Robbie, I once threw a big tantrum at the candy store because I didn't want to wait. Mommy and Daddy took me home, and I didn't get any candy that day. These people were here first. It won't be fair if we go before them." Robert's disappointment remained evident, but he was satisfied with this explanation.

As the minutes crept by, the boys inched closer and closer to the front. The younger boy was practically dancing with excitement as tub after tub of rich, creamy, succulent ice cream slowly came into view.

"You see, Robbie?" Jon smiled down at his little brother. Only a few people were in front of them at this point. "That wasn't too bad, was it?"

A soft splattering sound and child's heartbroken scream ripped violently through the air, drawing the boys' attention away from the ice cream counter. Everyone whirled about in confusion, trying to pinpoint the source of the sudden outburst. A little girl perhaps four or five years old was staring down in horror at an ice cream cone splattered on the sidewalk. Her face was beet-red and contorted in agony, as she screamed herself hoarse. Tears of unfathomable grief poured down her cheeks and soaked through her dress, forming watery streaks down the length of the cottony material. People winced sympathetically at the tragic debacle, before backing away to distance themselves from her piercing shrieks.

Jon glanced down at the two coins in his hand. Enough to buy two cones. Then he peered at the mother and daughter out the corner of one eye. The little girl's mother was desperately trying to reason with the inconsolable child. She spoke effusive words of sympathy, but maintained that they were not carrying enough money to buy another one. But this reasoning seemed to do more harm than good. The girl coughed and sputtered and choked on her own tears and mucus, as they continued to flow profusely.

The crown prince made his decision. He tore his eyes away from the tantalizing buckets of ice cream that had ravished his eyes for the past twenty minutes. "Robbie, hold on to this." Jon laid one of the coins in his brother's palm. "Wait here, I'll be right back."

Jon weaved his way around several people, hardly aware of the many pairs of eyes following him, until he reached his destination. He tapped the little girl gently on the shoulder, and held out the coin.

The child's mother gaped at him in utter astonishment. She began to awkwardly lift a hand to decline his offer.

"Go on, take it," he gently insisted.

Tears streamed from her eyes as she dipped into a deep curtsy. "Thank you, Prince Jon. You are truly an angel sent from heaven to watch over Arendelle. You and your Mama." A few people began to clap. Others slowly joined the chorus, and soon hundreds were celebrating the simple but profound miracle they had witnessed.

Jon smiled awkwardly and bade them farewell. It hurt a little to see so many people milling about in his vicinity, slurping on the ice cream that he would not get to enjoy that day. But putting a smile back on the child's face filled him with a sensation of warmth and contentment deeper than anything a sugary treat could've provided.

"Why you do that?" Jon turned around. Gerda was holding Robert's left hand, while his right hand sported a waffle cone topped with succulent mounds of creamy goodness.

Jon squeezed Robert's hand, as the royal entourage began heading back to the castle. "Remember what Mommy told us in our bedtime story? A prince thinks of his people first. He helps those in need. He stands up for people who can't stand up for themselves. Robbie, we can get ice cream anytime we want. But that little girl really needed something to cheer her up."

Robert held up a messy cone to his brother. "You can share mine!" The boys giggled with delight as they took turns licking the ice cream and reducing it into a disastrous mess of slush. Their faces and clothes were covered with sticky slop. But they were too happy to notice or care.

As the young princes continued to laugh and joke and make an even bigger mess, Kai slipped into the castle and quietly informed Elsa and Fredrik of what had had transpired that day. The Snow Queen felt her eyes fill with tears at the heartwarming revelation. She beamed at her husband. "Our little Jon will make a great king some day."

**Isabella returns! Thank you for the suggestion, FrozenFairyTales aka SnowRoyalty**

**Fanfiction-ers, see you in two weeks for our next installment!**


	6. Love You Forever

**I'm back! **

**Anyways, this is the last "happy chapter." The so-called tragic accident will span the next two chapters. I've been out of town for the past 2 weeks, and I apologize if I take a while to respond to reviewers. But I do promise that I've been reading each one, and I really appreciate all the support!**

**Chapter 6:**

The entire kingdom was abuzz with activity as they prepared to throw a surprise gala for the twelfth anniversary of Elsa's coronation. The Snow Queen was now thirty-three years old, but hadn't aged one bit from the day she first bore the crown. Twelve years of keeping Arendelle in prime condition, and twice becoming a mother hadn't done a thing to detract from the youthfulness she so effortlessly maintained. Only the scars upon her hands and the arthritis that creaked between her weary knuckles proved that she was not indestructible.

Anna had taken it upon herself to keep Elsa distracted and oblivious to the clandestine operation unfolding in plain sight to everyone else. She was also meticulously planning every detail of the ceremony, and perseverated obsessively on the tiniest details, from the food to the decorations to the music. The council made sure to keep a careful account of Anna's withdrawals from the royal treasury, knowing how easily her imagination and enthusiasm could spiral out of control.

The secret had come close to escaping one afternoon, when Anna could be heard hissing shrilly at Kristoff, who had accidentally left scraps of confetti on the hallway carpet. Fortunately, Olaf had managed to pull Elsa out into the courtyard, as she was inches away from rounding the corner and discovering the paper trail.

The royal children were also part of the conspiracy. On particularly busy days, Jon and Kristen would feign loud, angry arguments over trivial matters. The children would suppress snorts of laughter as they barged precipitously into Elsa's study, each asserting their own blamelessness and insisting that they had been wronged. They would keep her distracted until the party preparations for the day were finished.

"Kristen called me a brat!" a red-faced Jon screamed.

"Well, you are one!" Kristen stomped her foot indignantly. "You're not just a brat, but you're a whiny, mean, selfish tattle-tale brat! You always eat more than your share of chocolate, and you think you can do whatever you want!"

"No, it was MY chocolate! You gave it to me! You said you would give me your chocolate if I let you have that pony thing that other day, and once you give somebody something, it's not yours anymore! You can't take it back! So you're the brat! And you're a lying, stealing, promise-breaking brat!" Jon fired back.

"I never said that! There was no _pony thing_! And I already gave you my chocolate last week, so even if you were telling the truth—which you aren't, because you never tell the truth—I still don't owe you any chocolate. So you're the liar! And you're fat!" Kristen shot him a wink that Elsa couldn't see.

"What you say is what you are, so you're fat! And you're ugly!"

"I'm telling!"

"No, I'm telling on you first!"

The kids would bombard Elsa with rapid, furious monologues of indecipherable nonsense, allowing Anna to slither past the door with her arms full of balloons and streamers. When the phony argument was finally settled and an acceptable compromise was reached, Jon and Kristen would scamper down the hallway, giggling and congratulating each other on a fine performance.

For one so clever, Elsa could certainly be naïve at times. She may have possessed the sharpest mind in Arendelle and never failed to spot a liar or opportunist, but the Snow Queen was no match for two determined children.

* * *

><p>The day of the celebration was drawing near, and the two young princes were browsing through a trinket store, in search of the perfect gift for their mother.<p>

"Look!" Four year-old Robert's eyes lit up as he spotted a snowflake handcrafted out of flawlessly translucent and sparkling glass. It glowed with all the splendor and radiance of diamonds in the candlelight. "Let's buy this for Mommy!" He rushed down the aisle to show Jon what he had found. In his excited stupor, the little boy tripped over his own feet and dropped the delicate ornament, which shattered with a soft but devastating clink.

The merriment instantly vanished from his bright green eyes, as they clouded over with tears. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to!"

Eight year-old Jon quickly pulled his little brother into a hug. "It's okay, Robbie. We'll pay for it." He ran his fingers soothingly through Robert's golden blonde locks. "Just be more careful next time." The broken ornament was valued at six copper coins. Jon placed seven coins on the counter, as restitution for the inconvenience caused.

But the shopkeeper was still ungracious and completely dismissive of their contrition. Mrs. Norgard was a large and busty woman in her fifties. Her round, fleshy face was perpetually red, and permanently entrenched with a belligerent scowl. She was notorious for being the grouchiest woman in town, and was the frequent target of jokes and name-calling by the kingdom's children. "Look what you've done, you little brat!" she barked angrily, spraying Robert with spit.

Jon stood his ground. "Mrs. Norgard, that was completely unnecessary. Robbie said that he's sorry, and we paid for it. You are overreacting."

But the corpulent old hag would only continue to berate the little boy. "That clumsy fool needs to keep his hands off of my property!"

Ice began to coat the walls of the room, as Jon grew increasingly incensed. He wrapped a protective arm around the younger boy, and spoke with all the poise and coolness of a future king. "That _clumsy fool_ is my brother, and a sovereign prince of Arendelle. Ask anyone in this kingdom, and they'll tell you that he is much more important than you will ever be! Good bye, Mrs. Norgard. I hope you realize you won't attract customers with that attitude." Jon grabbed Robert's hand, and the boys strode out the front door without buying a thing.

But their troubles wouldn't end there. They had hardly gone for a minute, before Robert walked straight into a potted plant. The little boy gasped in mortification as he realized his misstep, and hastily tried to clean it up. But he only succeeded at making things worse. When he bent down to pick up one plant, his bottom knocked over two others. Before long, his shirt was soiled and the sidewalk was completely littered with dirt and pebbles and leafy fragments.

A few gruff-looking men, whose attire revealed them to be dockhands and fishermen, bantered nearby at a table outside a tavern. "The old hag is right, you know? That boy is a damn idiot. You'd never believe in a million years that he and Queen Elsa were related. Maybe she froze his brain during the pregnancy."

"I know what you mean, dude," another man chortled as he took another sip of ale. "That Robert kid is so useless. Why don't they just disown him?"

A third man scratched his messy brown hair and spoke with a snide drawl, telling some "just the spare" joke that sent his companions into a fit of derisive giggling.

Jon gave Robert's arm a vigorous tug and tried to pull him out of earshot, but it was too late. The damage had been done. The toddler's face crumpled with grief as he broke free from Jon's grip and ran headlong for the castle gate, trying unsuccessfully to hide the blotchy mess of tears and mucus that stained his countenance. Robert pushed past row after row of guards and servants, until he ran into Fredrik at the top of the stairs.

The little boy threw himself into his father's arms. "Daddy!" he sobbed loudly.

Fredrik looked at his younger son in bewilderment and concern. "Robbie, what happened?"

Robert tried to explain what happened in town that day, but he was crying and choking too hard to utter another syllable. "Nobody likes me!" he finally managed after several minutes of incoherent sputtering.

Fredrik tousled his hair affectionately. "You know that's not true. There are so many people who like you. Mommy, Daddy, Auntie Anna, Uncle Kristoff, and everybody in Arendelle. Most importantly, Jon. Your brother loves you more than anything in the world."

Robert calmed down slightly at those words. "But I'm stupid."

The King of Arendelle eyed his youngest son curiously. "Robbie, why would you think that? Where did you get that idea?"

"I knocked over a bunch of things by accident today, and everybody called me stupid. But I didn't mean to. I guess I am stupid." Fresh tears were leaking out the corners of his eyes, at the mere recollection. "I don't want to be stupid!" he howled miserably.

"Daddy, am I just a spare?"

"No!" Fredrik asserted firmly. "You are a prince of Arendelle, and a member of our family. Most importantly, you are a human being who deserves to be treated with respect.

"But Jon is better than me."

"Robbie, how can you say you aren't as good as Jon, when you're good in different ways? Tell me, does Mommy like Auntie Anna?" Robert nodded.

"But Auntie Anna was never born to be Queen. And she isn't as smart as Mommy. Is she just a spare? Why does Mommy like her?"

"Because Auntie Anna is the most coolest and awesomest person in the whole wide world!"

"There you go. You see, Robbie? It doesn't matter. Being a good person is more important than having a crown on your head. I can guarantee that even when you boys are all grown up and Jon becomes King, you will still be the most important person in his life."

Robert sucked his thumb as he tried to digest this perplexing dissertation. "So does Jon still love me? As much as he loves chocolate?"

"Even more," Fredrik reassured him.

* * *

><p>Later that night, after Robert had fallen asleep, Jon sat up in bed and glanced over. The younger boy was curled up in a ball, clutching his favorite teddy bear and slumbering peacefully underneath the thick, fluffy blanket. His eyelids were still red and puffy, and streaks of watery residue still stained his chubby little cheeks.<p>

Jon glanced quietly around their shared bedroom in the castle nursery. A shimmer of blue caught his eye. Sitting on the lid of their toy chest were two identical snow globes that Elsa had given both boys for Christmas two years ago. The Snow Prince wound up a little dial on the bottom of the contraption, and soft, twinkling melody began to play. It was a lullaby that Mommy used to sing to him all the time when he was Robbie's age, and it never failed to flood his heart with peace and contentment.

Clutching one of the snow globes in his hands, Jon tiptoed soundlessly to Robert's bedside, and let the music flow. Softly and tenderly, he sang along with his improvised lyrics.

_I love you forever,_

_I like you for always._

_As long as I'm living,_

_My brother you'll be._

**The next chapter will be angsty. Be prepared!**


	7. A Tragic Morning

**Well, this is where the angst begins. Please PM me if you would like spoilers.**

**Warning: some alcohol use & foul language (albeit in a joking context). Kristoff and Fredrik unleash their inner fratboys. **

**Chapter 7:**

"Come on Mommy, pleeeeeease?" Robert put on Anna's signature pouting puppy-dog face, and completely melted the Snow Queen to a pile of slush. "I promise I'll be good!"

The men of the castle were planning to embark on a weekend camping trip, in celebration of completing weeks of undercover party planning under Anna's shrill command. With just three days until the twelfth anniversary of Elsa's coronation, all the necessary preparations had been finished in the nick of time. The children had been invited to come along.

Elsa trusted Jon and Kristen to exercise good judgment and not get excessively carried away. But she had plenty of misgivings about letting four year-old Robert out of her sight. The littlest prince was every bit as energetic as Anna was as a child. When he was happy or excited, he would impulsively do whatever came to mind without thinking about the consequences. He also had the propensity to wander away from adult supervision whenever the royal family ventured out of the castle.

But to keep the children apart was unthinkable. As she had learned from her own parents' mistakes, depriving a child in the name of "protecting them" would always do more harm than good, only brewing repression and resentment in the long run. After the "just the spare" fiasco earlier that week, to further reinforce the notion that he could not be trusted would wreak unthinkable damage on the little boy's self-esteem. Elsa picked Robert up and set him in her lap. "Of course you may go, sweetie. But please be careful, and use good judgment. Don't eat any wild berries, or play with animals you find in the woods. They might look cute and fluffy, but they can bite." The little boy nodded enthusiastically, bouncing up and down.

With a tender smile, Elsa unwrapped a piece of chocolate from her pocket and laid it in Robert's chubby little hand. "Can you promise Mommy that you won't wander off alone? That you won't go anywhere without an adult?"

"I promise!" Robert shouted happily. His wide eyes and adorable smile were irresistible.

"Good boy." Elsa planted a gentle kiss on the top of his head. "Have a wonderful time, and stay safe!"

* * *

><p>The full moon was radiant in the immaculately clear and starry sky, shedding its silvery beams around the joyful revelers below. As the children slept peacefully in their tent, the men sat huddled around the campfire, basking in the warmth of the open flame and the even cozier warmth of family and friends. In the distance, the intermittent howls of lone wolves reverberated through the forest clearing, as the tantalizing aroma of roasted meat wafted through the crisp mountain air. An entire wild boar was impaled through a spit, slowly cooking over the fiery tendrils. The hapless beast had put up a valiant resistance, struggling ferociously to stave off its mortality, until it perished under Fredrik's crossbow.<p>

The men stuffed themselves with food, pillaging into the succulent carcass with barbaric fervor. They haphazardly tore away huge chunks of meat, hot and crispy and oozing with lard, talking with their mouths full as they gnawed vigorously at the charred bones. This was the time to liberate the repressed primordial instinct and unleash the inner caveman that was so unbecoming of royal life. To venture out of the civilized world of the castle and crown, and plunge into a world of rugged challenge and adversity that separated the men from the boys. Alcohol, testosterone, and profanity flowed like a river.

Only Kai was reasonably sober, as he raised his mug of ale high into the air. "Let us toast to another year of peace and prosperity in Arendelle." The other men followed suit.

Lieutenant Stevens patted Fredrik jovially on the back. "All thanks to Frosty, who is working her sexy ass off back at the castle, instead of bumming in the woods like _someone_."

Fredrik laughed and splashed some ale in his direction. "That _someone_ was responsible for your dinner tonight, you ungrateful little shit."

Kristoff snorted incredulously. "Excuse me, but I believe I am the true hero of the hunt."

Admiral Peterson shook his head. "You mean you killed that pig by screaming like a little bitch?"

Kristoff gave a toothy grin and raised a middle finger. "Admit it, man. Freddie can't hunt, he can't fish, and he can't even milk a cow. In fact, he's such a dumbass he can't even fart and pick his nose at the same time."

"So tell me, Kristopher, who killed that pig while _someone_ was hiding behind Sven and shitting his pants?" Fredrik tossed a rock over his shoulder, and hit Kristoff squarely in the crotch.

Several of the guards snickered. "Great shot, Your Majesty. You must have impeccable aim to hit such a tiny target." Their laugh was cut short as Kristoff emptied an entire bottle of beer over their heads.

The ice master turned to address his brother-in-law again. "Psh! I would've killed that pig with my bare hands! But you had to be such a giant pussy and use your crossbow! I challenge you to a hunt-off! Winner takes the crown."

Fredrik waved his hand nonchalantly. "Yeah, like that would be fair. You could stink a pig to death, the way you never bathe."

"And you would turn it to stone with your ugly face." The ice master retorted.

"Just kidding, I love you Freddie," Kristoff slurred. A big goofy grin spread across his face, as he pulled the king into a very intimate and suggestive embrace.

Fredrik was every bit as inebriated, as he returned the gesture. "I love you too, Krissy." Every man groaned and gagged in disgust.

Kristoff pulled out of the hug. "Hey Freddie, you wanna hear a song I wrote?" He swayed awkwardly on his feet and stumbled back to his tent, emerging with a lute in hand.

"Reindeers smell better than Anna… Fred, don't you think that's true?"

Kai grabbed Kristoff just as he was about to slosh down his seventh beer. "You've had quite enough to drink, young man."

The blonde continued to sing "Kai is a bossy old douchebag… Fred, don't you think I'm right? _That's once again true, just get a clue… _Kai is a douche." Kristoff finished his serenade by emptying his half-finished mug of ale into Kai's head.

An exasperated Kai stormed back into the tent, furiously wiping the sticky fermented liquid from his face and clothes as he complained to the guards. "King Fredrik and Prince Kristoff have had way too much to drink tonight. Next time I'm bringing the alcohol."

Fredrik yelled after him. "Wait, I'm a king? Of what? You're not making any sense, tubby! Hey Krissy, wanna hear a joke? Who are the three greatest kings of Arendelle?"

Kristoff slurred back, "I don't know, Freddie. Who are the three greatest kings of Arendelle?"

"Smo_king_, drin_king_, and fuc_king_! Especially if you're fucking Frosty under the table in the throne room!" Both men burst into a fit of intoxicated laughter, bellowing at the top of their lungs.

Finally, every last drop of alcohol had been consumed, and the fiery embers began to die down. In utter exhaustion and euphoria, the men retreated to their tents and collapsed into slumber.

* * *

><p>A faint orange glow began to peek over the eastern horizon, crowning the forest canopies with a golden backlight. In the distance, hidden within the deep emerald shadows, the woodland critters stirred to life. Leaves rustled and birds chirped, preparing for another day to dawn.<p>

Only a messy campsite in the forest clearing remained devoid of activity. Silvery bulbs of dew lay cold and unperturbed upon the surrounding grass. The dilapidated remains of a wild boar carcass lay strewn across a pit of dampened woodchips. Random bits of bone and sinew and coagulated puddles of tan-colored liquid festered in the air, attracting scores upon scores of insects. Gruff snores emanated from a cluster of tents, revealing that there was life within this apparently desolate settlement.

The flap of a tent fluttered open, and a small boy peeked out with a mischievous smile. Prince Robert of Arendelle glanced in either direction, before disappearing back into the tent to wake his partners in crime. "Jon! Kristen! Wake up!"

"Robbie," a sleepy voice mumbled softly. "Go back to sleep."

The younger boy emitted a dramatic sigh, and flopped down on top of his brother. "Come on, let's go on an adventure!"

Jon buried his face into his pillow. "When Daddy wakes up."

"Aww," Robert pouted. "But Daddy will take so long to wake up. Let's go by ourself!"

"Robbie," Kristen spoke softly but firmly. "You know we supposed to wait for the grownups."

Those words struck a chord in his four year-old heart. It was the vow he had made to his mother. But the flowery meadows and mysterious forests beckoned him with a tantalizing allure. The call of adventure was too great to ignore. Robert paused to dig for a loophole that would allow him to slake his curiosity without disobeying. Then it came to him in a glorious stroke of inspiration.

"We three together are a grownup!" he babbled excitedly.

Kristen raised her eyebrows. "Robbie, what do you mean?"

"Us three!" he gestured to himself, his brother and cousin. "I bet together we're more bigger and strongerer than Daddy! So we're a grownup!"

"Robbie, it doesn't work that way." Jon patiently explained.

The little boy became increasingly flustered as he saw his chances of convincing them slipping away. Then a new idea dawned upon him.

"We're a grownup if we plus our ages together!" He counted on his fingers. "Nine plus eight plus four is twenty-five! And twenty-five is grownup!"

"Twenty-one," Jon corrected. "But you do have a point. Twenty-one _is_ grownup…"

Confidence surged in his heart, as the littlest prince realized he was getting close to achieving his goal. Jon's resolve was crumbling. Robert made a final bid. He knew there was one thing his brother could never resist.

"Do you wanna visit Mommy's Ice Castle?" He had done it. He had said the magic words.

Indeed, Jon relented. "Okay!" he whispered. "But we have to make it quick. We'll go there for five minutes and come back. Got that? Five minutes, and no more."

"Are you sure about this?" Kristen furrowed her brow in concern. "We'll get in so much trouble if our parents find out."

Jon sighed. He knew they weren't supposed to leave the campsite without an adult. But he wanted so badly to see Elsa's majestic creation glowing in the morning sun, in all its beauty and splendor. Besides, what could go wrong in five minutes?

The three children tiptoed wordlessly out of their tent, careful not to make a sound. But the events of the previous night rendered their efforts superfluous. Fredrik, Kristoff, and the other men were trapped in a comatose sleep, still hung over from their drunken festivities. With their degree of intoxication, they could've slept through another eternal winter.

"This way!" Robert pulled his brother and cousin along eagerly, furiously pumping his tiny legs as he sprinted forward. The hours surreptitiously crept by, as the sun rose higher and inundated the landscape with dazzling rays of light and warmth. But the kids paid no attention, as they plodded deeper and deeper into the forest.

"Robbie, do you even know where we're going?" Jon asked incredulously. The younger boy nodded vigorously, his blonde hair flapping about in the wind.

"Yes! The North Mountain is over there!"

"I think it's actually—"

"Quiet!" Kristen suddenly hissed. She held a finger to her lips and peered intently into a dense clump of undergrowth. "Do you hear that?"

A low, coarse grunting sound and the rustling of leaves sounded not far away. Branches snapped and clumps of grass were heard being uprooted from the earth. The children cautiously backed away, keeping their gaze fixated on the dense thicket.

Then they saw it. Grazing in the clump of trees and bushes was an enormous wild boar, the most fearsome beast their young eyes had ever beheld. It was larger than many of the horses kept in the royal stables, weighing perhaps fifty stone or more. The muscles and sinews stood out like knotted cords down the length of its massive hairy body, and its vicious tusks gleamed menacingly under the bright morning sun. But the wild behemoth paid no attention to the children, as it plowed through the dirt in search of insects and tubers.

Jon pretended to fire an invisible arrow at the monster pig. "He would make a great Christmas dinner."

"I bet I can beat him! I wanna be a great hunter, just like Daddy!" Robert's green eyes were wide with wonder and enthusiasm.

Jon laughed and patted his baby brother on the head. "I bet I can kill an even bigger pig!" he spoke in jest.

Robert stuck out his chest proudly. "I am the son of the mighty Snow Queen and the most bestest hunter in all of Arendelle! I'll run in there and go all _Pffffffft! Psssssh! Peeeeew! _And the pig will explode in a bajillion pieces!" The toddler hopped and danced about, waving his arms wildly and emitting a rapid barrage of random and unintelligible sound effects. In his excitement, Robert began spiraling closer and closer to the feral beast.

Jon tried to grab him by the shoulder. "Robbie, I was only joking. Wild boars are very dangerous. Don't go any closer."

The little tyke seized a handful of rocks and pine cones and began charging straight at the monster pig in single-minded determination. Blood was pounding in his ears and fanciful visions clouded his mind, drowning out his wiser judgment and any sense of perspective.

The older boy was beginning to panic. He recognized this mental state in his younger brother. The four year-old had a rather tenuous grasp on reality, and when swept away by his gratuitous imagination, he would act out in the most bizarre and outlandish manners. Now the little tot had managed to convince himself that he was the greatest hunter Arendelle had ever seen, and was determined to bring that fantasy to life. "Robbie, stop!"

Too late.

* * *

><p>"Robbie, I told you not to do that!" Jon screamed hysterically. But the younger boy still appeared oblivious to the sheer enormity of his actions. He whooped excitedly and cheered his brother on, as if participating in a spectator sport. The wild boar squared its massive shoulders and snorted loudly, readying itself for a charge.<p>

Kristen had run back for help. Jon steadied his trembling hands and fired a blast of ice. But his powers were far weaker than his mother's. Furthermore, his aim was erratic at best in his state of shock. He was powerless to injure the enraged behemoth, and could only stall for time.

Jon continued to shoot icy projectiles from both hands, grazing the boar's left flank and drawing blood with a well-placed shot. But fatigue was taking its toll, and his aim was slowly deteriorating. Every blast of ice required more effort and concentration than the one before it. Finally, he could no longer sustain his onslaught. Jon closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable.

But death never came. The swift pounding of hoofbeats and a determined grunt broke his catatonic trance. Jon felt himself suddenly lift off the ground and soar through the air. The young prince opened his weary eyes. Kristoff had swept him up with one hand and tossed him onto Sven's back. Robbie was perched safely in the ice harvester's opposite arm, as the trio galloped quickly out of harm's way. Jon leaned forward and slumped face-first into the reindeer's soft fur.

A chorus of aggressive masculine voices sounded over his shoulder. Fredrik and several other men were rushing forward with weapons unsheathed. Jon winced at the murderous rage etched into his father's handsome features. For their disobedience, he and Robbie would most certainly taste Papa's belt when this debacle was finished. But the prospect of bruised and blistered bottoms paled in comparison to his miraculous escape from death. Icy tears slid down his cheeks, as the eight year-old looked to the heavens and resolved to be a good son for the rest of his days.

His relief would be short-lived, however. Confident that he was now safe and untouchable, and not fully understanding the danger they were in, Robert would once again test the limits with an incredibly childish act of inanity. He whirled around and hurled another volley of stones at the giant hog, striking it in the eye. "Score!"

The boar charged with all its might and fury. One of its razor-sharp tusks ripped open Sven's right flank, unleashing a quick spurt of blood. The wound was shallow, but the damage had been done. As he stumbled about, the reindeer inadvertently bucked his riders high into the air. Both boys found themselves sprawled across the ground. The monster pig was getting increasingly incensed, as it moved in for the kill. Its eyes glowed like fiery embers, as it glared menacingly at the humans responsible for its aggravation. Saliva hung from its teeth in slippery stalactites. Hot, foul-smelling air emanated from its nostrils as it crept closer. Jon buried his face miserably between his knees. _I'm sorry Mama, Papa. I should have listened to you. I shouldn't have wandered off._

Seeing his sons in peril, Fredrik pushed past the guards with herculean speed and agility. In an incredibly bold maneuver, he rolled his six-foot-four frame between the giant boar and its hapless victims, and managed to land a killing thrust with his sword. But victory would not come without a price. As the slain behemoth thrashed about in agony, one of its tusks slid neatly across Fredrik's thigh, cutting straight to the bone and shredding his femoral artery. The King of Arendelle doubled over and collapsed motionlessly to the ground, drenched in his own blood and sweat.

"Daddy!" Jon screamed in terror, as fresh tears sprang to his eyes and a thick layer of hoarfrost covered the forest clearing.


	8. A Hero's Death

**Guest:**** After I finish this story, I'm going to write another Hans Revenge fic that will have a lot of overlap with the unpublished/alternate chapters of Playing Dirty. With that said, I don't think I'll continue the **_**What Would Have Happened**_** series. But if you create a User ID, I'd be happy to PM the next chapter(s) to you!**

**Guest:**** Robert is 4, Jon is 8, Elsa is 33 and Fredrik is 46. **

**Warning: Lots of angst, and death of major character. **

**Chapter 8:**

Elsa massaged her fingers and turned back to the neat pile of parchment sitting atop her desk. The trade agreement she had been working on for the past two months was nearly finished and ready to be implemented. But her hands ached terribly and she was weeks ahead of schedule, so she opted for a break. Elsa stepped out the door and into the hallway. She would invite Anna to build a snowman. As she rounded a corner, she walked directly into someone, sending her sprawling backwards onto the ground.

It was Kai. The portly older man was her most trusted advisor, and played the role of a father figure in her younger days. Elsa smiled warmly and began to inquire about the camping trip, but faltered at the downcast expression on his face.

"Your Majesty," he took a solemn bow. "I regret to be the bearer of bad news."

Ice crept up the walls and across the floor, at the Snow Queen's discomfort. She began rambling wildly. "What happened? Are the children all right? How about Fredrik? Kristoff?"

Kai brushed away a tear and pulled the agitated young woman into his arms. Right now she was no longer the queen of a realm, but soon to be a grieving mother and widow. "There was an accident. Yesterday the children left the campsite at dawn to go explore the woods. Little Robert wanted to go hunting. He tried to attack a wild boar—"

"Robbie did WHAT?" Elsa shrieked.

An explosion of ice rocked the room, causing the temperature to plummet. Kai shivered violently and pulled his jacket tightly around his body, but would not speak a word of protest. At the moment, his personal comfort was the least of their concerns. With trembling voice, he finished the story. "Robert was thrown onto the ground when the boar attacked Sven. He hit his head and is out cold, but the doctors say he will be fine by tomorrow. The ice master's reindeer was badly wounded and will be crippled for life, but he'll live. Fredrik's condition is rather precarious. He has suffered severe internal damage and lost a lot of blood—"

Elsa silenced him with another deafening explosion of ice that nearly shattered a vase. "I wasn't even going to let the children go at first! They asked and begged and _promised_ to behave themselves! What part of _don't run off_ don't they understand? And I specifically asked Robert not to mess around with wild animals!" Elsa slammed her foot viciously against the wall with a thundering boom. But the agony of her stubbed toe only amplified her frustration, as she gesticulated wildly and continued to rant. "I let them go, and _this_ is how they repay me? Doing the exact opposite of what they promised? They might as well have told me to go fuck myself!"

The Snow Queen haphazardly threw open a door and fumbled about furiously for several minutes. Finally, she emerged with a thick leather strap in hand. Kai grimaced at the sight. "Your Majesty, what—"

"Something I've learned over the past few years is that people who won't respond to discourse and reason will only be persuaded by force. Today is no exception. I asked the kids nicely, and they respond by essentially saying _Fuck You_ to my face. It's time to adopt stronger measures."

Kai was greatly unnerved by her outburst. It was so uncharacteristic of Elsa to lose her temper or resort to threats and violence. He lifted a hand in feeble protest.

She brushed him aside abrasively, and continued making a beeline for the staircase. "I'm the queen. I can do whatever the bloody hell I want."

* * *

><p>Elsa stormed through the halls, icy footsteps materializing with every step she took. She ducked to keep her tear-streaked face as hidden as possible, and mumbled a lengthy string of threats and curses through clenched teeth. Her left hand was so tightly clamped around the leather strap, the waxy white skin covering her knuckles was on the verge of splitting. She knew what the children would say, and she would have none of it. <em>We didn't mean to. It was an accident. We're sorry.<em> Elsa ground her teeth together and involuntarily spoke out loud. "Well, _sorry_ isn't going to change what happened!" Tears and apologies would prove utterly futile. There was nothing the children could do to negotiate their ways out of the whipping they so deserved.

Several maids and servants reached out timidly to pat her on the arm, but recoiled instantly as Elsa whipped her hand across a mahogany console table, and sent a vase of flowers crashing to the floor. The Snow Queen angry was a rare and terrifying sight to behold.

Finally, she found herself standing in front of a closed set of double-doors leading to the hospital wing of the castle. Without a second thought, Elsa drew back one leg and slammed her heel into its polished wooden surface. She was hardly cognizant of the deafening crash of the brass doorknob against the wall, or the many pairs of stunned eyes that instantly transfixed upon her. But as she stepped forward and sized up the situation at hand, her anger dissipated at once. Robert lay unconscious on a small mattress, with his head wrapped in bandages. Jon knelt by Fredrik's bedside with a desperate, pleading look etched into his face. Anna was hugging Kristen tightly as the younger redhead apologized profusely and patted a broken-legged Sven on the back. Elsa instantly forgot the stinging tirade and brutal punishment she planned to deliver. Instead, she fell to her knees and pulled her son into a hug.

Elsa felt a cold wetness soaking through and spreading across the shoulder of her dress. She held Jon even tighter, and felt her heart overflow with tenderness. It was then that Elsa realized she also knew firsthand how it felt to inadvertently hurt a loved one. The guilt was tremendous, and would rapidly conflagrate into a destructive and unhealthy self-loathing if not handled with care. The children would forever live with the scars of what they had witnessed. That was punishment enough. Now was the time for nurture and comfort, not for judgment and scolding.

She reached down and patted Jon soothingly on the back. "Mommy's right here, sweetie." The tears flowed freely.

A faint cough and clearing of a throat caught her attention. Elsa carefully leaned over Fredrik's prostrate body and cradled his head gently in her arms. "My strong, brave, selfless Fredrik…" She reached out a hand to stroke his sandy blonde hair. "Please wake up… Just let me hear your voice."

His eyelids fluttered, before parting to reveal slivers of those sea-green orbs. "Elsa!" Ignoring his injuries, Fredrik vigorously pushed himself up from the bed and enveloped her in a tight hug. But he grimaced and fell back at the pain of his exertion. He coughed violently, spraying her dress with flecks of blood.

"Please be all right. Oh Fredrik, I'm so sorry! This is all my fault. I should have come with you, to keep an eye on the little ones."

He silenced her with a feeble wave of the hand. "At least I got to see you one last time."

"Don't talk like that! What about the boys? What about me? Our family won't be complete without you."

"No, Elsa. _You_ are the true heart and soul of Arendelle. You created a legacy of love and sacrifice for the rest of us to follow. You are the ultimate embodiment of everything that is right in this world. That timeless creed that sums up the spirit of our family and kingdom: Love will thaw... And love will heal." Fredrik paused to draw another agonized breath, forcing himself to continue speaking. "I must go now. Good bye, my love."

Tears poured down Elsa's cheeks, as the seriousness of the situation became glaringly real. She was no stranger to death, but to watch a loved one die before her very eyes was a frightening and foreign experience. "Will you tell Mama and Papa how much I love them?"

The dying king smiled through his pain. Despite the agonized grimace etched into his handsome features, his eyes were stunningly tranquil. "I will tell them that they couldn't have raised a better daughter or heir… and thank them for sharing you with me." His chest fell, and he was gone.

* * *

><p>Elsa stood before her husband's grave, carrying little Robert in one arm and holding Jon's hand in her other. The freshly dug dirt was covered with a neat pile of flowers, placed there by citizens who had come to show respect and solidarity to their royal family. Despite the clear skies and balmy climates that characterized summer in Arendelle, the air was cold and stagnant. The skies were a dark, monochromatic field of endless gray, blocking out every ray of sunlight. Everyone stood with their heads bowed and tears streaming as the priest spoke in a low, melancholic tone. But in her grief, Elsa was hardly listening. She turned her tear-streaked face to the gloomy gray skies and silently promised Mama, Papa, and Fredrik that she would protect and serve Arendelle until her final breath.<p>

When the funeral procession came to a close, many people came to hug Elsa. They gave her sad, contrite smiles and bowed deeply, but no words were exchanged. No words could do justice to the situation at hand. Eventually, as the crowds dispersed and the children followed Anna back to the castle, only Elsa was left. She collapsed to the ground in a sobbing wreck.

"Oh Fredrik, why? Why did you have to leave so soon?" She continued to weep for nearly an hour, in a mindless outpouring of grief. But as her tears began to run dry, a calmer perspective settled in. She laid a trembling hand on the cold, lifeless mound of dirt.

"You died a hero's death. You died protecting the ones you love. There is no greater love than to give your life for another." Elsa swallowed hard and tried to compose herself. She drew a shuddering breath and continued, fighting back a fit of sobs that would render her completely incoherent. "I wish you could be here to watch our boys become good, kind, God-fearing men. But the Lord is good to widows and orphans. We have two wonderful sons, and you will be watching them from above."

"He may not understand now, but when little Robbie is older, he will feel so much guilt and shame at what happened. But I will do everything I can to make sure our boys grow up in love, not fear. Robbie will know that Daddy loved him enough to die for him, and in turn he will become the most loving and selfless person this kingdom has ever seen. And I know in my heart that one day, our Jon will grow up to be the greatest man to ever wear the crown of Arendelle."

Fredrik was buried on the very same hill where Adgar, Idunn, and all their predecessors had been laid to rest so many years ago. Lying adjacent to his grave was a neat patch of unperturbed grass, leaving room for the distant someday when Elsa would join the hallowed ranks of Arendelle's deceased monarchs. As the skies darkened and an uncomfortable chill began to permeate the landscape, Elsa forced herself to stand. She walked numbly to each of the cold, lifeless tombstones and planted a gentle kiss onto each one, before heading back to the castle. Her eyes were dry and her countenance placid, for all her tears had been shed and she had no strength left to cry.

**RIP Fredrik. Jon's transformation begins in the next chapter. **


	9. Not My Brother Anymore

**Apologies for a short chapter! But I wanted to get this out by today. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 9:**

Elsa was no stranger to grief. When she was eight years old, Anna was ripped from her embrace. When she was twelve, her powers were deemed too dangerous for her to give or receive any sort of human contact. When she was eighteen, the death of her parents forced her into the uncomfortable new role as the head of a household and kingdom.

Because her powers were so closely linked to her emotions, she rid herself of the ability to feel anything at all. Her tragic past had forced her to develop an indomitable willpower, and an almost inhuman ability to withstand disappointment. For thirteen long and miserable years, she was cut off from the rest of the world, deprived of the nurture and experience so critical to the formative years of childhood and adolescence. Until her coronation forced her into a more open and public life, Elsa had resigned herself to eternal imprisonment.

Like the mighty glaciers of the North Mountain, a heart frozen solid by fear could be thawed only with an inordinate amount of time and patience. Twelve years ago, the healing process began. The gates had opened. The storms were banished. A treasured friendship that had all but perished long ago was resurrected in the face of stupefying odds. She knew she was loved in spite of all her faults and fears, and she dared to reciprocate that love. For the first time in forever, she could emerge from the shell of fear and isolation that had imprisoned her for so long. Battered, but not broken, Damaged, but not destroyed.

By her side was a sister who had never given up on her, even in their darkest days. A brother who had once been a stranger. A kingdom full of hardy, resilient people whom she was proud to call her own. Soon to be followed by a dear, sweet man who proved to be the perfect husband, father, and king. Two wonderful sons whom they would raise to be the finest men Arendelle had ever seen.

But _happily ever after_ was as ephemeral as snow on a summer day. With one tragic accident, the circle had been broken, and it would never again be complete in this life.

It was for this very reason that Elsa now lay sprawled on largest and most luxurious bed in the entire kingdom, with her face buried into a pillow and her tears drenching through the mattress. By her side was a cold, empty space on the bed that would never be filled. But nothing could compare to the aching void in her heart. Tears poured down her crumpled face as she convulsed in grief, clutching a portrait of their family in her trembling fists. Never again would she feel Fredrik's strong arms around her, flooding her soul with warmth and assurance. Never again would she see those bright green eyes fill with pride and affection as they watched their boys grow. She would never again see Fredrik in this life.

* * *

><p>A soft knocking on her door drew Elsa out of her misery. In her disheveled state, she was in no mood for company. But if there was anything she had learned over the course of her rather crazy and eventful life, it was that a closed door was not a sanctuary to hide from problems and avoid reality. Besides, she had to stand as a pillar of strength for a mourning kingdom. Arendelle could not afford to have its queen wallowing in self-pity for any longer. Elsa smoothed out her hair and wiped her wet, blotchy cheeks before pulling open the door.<p>

It was Jon. She held out her arms, wanting to smother the poor child with love and warmth. To sit him in her lap as if he were a toddler again, brush back his platinum blonde locks, and assure him that he was loved unconditionally. But before she could make a single move, Jon spoke first.

Much time had passed since Elsa last heard her son's voice. In the five days since his father's death, Jon had holed himself up in his room, refusing to see anyone as he mourned in solitude. Elsa felt that this was a counterproductive and unhealthy outlet for grief, but she would not impose her presence on him. Different people had different ways of coping with tragedy, and the last thing the eight year-old needed was someone telling him that there was a "right" or "wrong" way to respond. But she would always be ready with receptive ears, open arms, and an endless supply of hugs and kisses for whenever Jon was ready.

But as the boy opened his mouth for the first time in five days, Elsa felt a chill run up her spine.

"It's his fault."

Before Elsa could process what he had said, Jon continued, "Robert did this. It's his fault that Daddy is dead."

His tone became markedly harsher. "I hate him! I wish he was never born!" Elsa ducked as a sharp streak of ice missed her face by inches, and exploded against the far wall.

The Snow Queen felt her heart break at those words. Her worst fears had been confirmed. More than one bond had been broken within their family, at a time when they needed each other's love and support more than ever.

She wanted to convince herself that Jon didn't truly mean what he said. That the boy simply needed an outlet for his grief and indignation. That this was only a transient phase that would come to pass, after the initial shock died down. But as she saw the hatred in his eyes and heard the bitterness in his voice that a child his age should not be capable of, she knew that her son had been fundamentally—and perhaps irreversibly—altered by the tragedy.

It could be asserted with complete truth and validity that Robert was not entirely at fault; Jon too had been guilty of disobedience and poor decision-making that day, albeit to a lesser extent. But this was not the time to point fingers or assign blame, or worse yet, tell Jon that he "shouldn't feel that way." The children had all suffered through a traumatic event. To nitpick over who was at fault would be petty and insensitive beyond all human decency. They needed the loving embrace of a mother. Not the impartial judgment of a ruler.

With tears running down her cheeks, Elsa reached out to lay a comforting hand on Jon's shoulder. But he shoved her back with an astonishing degree of roughness, causing her to stumble backwards and crash violently into her dressing table. Elsa winced in pain and gingerly attempted to stand, as shards of broken mirror sliced through her clothes and skin. Dozens of long, jagged lacerations ribboned her arms and torso. Without another word or gesture, and in complete indifference to his mother's injury, Jon headed for hallway in long, purposeful strides.

Just as he was about to slam the door in his wake, he turned back around. His bright blue eyes were cold and barren, dull with the infinite cynicism of a once-innocent creature that had been broken, beaten, and stripped of its humanity. Jon spoke in a chilling voice that was not his own.

"I wish Robert was dead."

**The next chapters will be longer, as they further show Jon's transformation into a cold and mean-spirited person. **


	10. A Bully is Born

**Guest****: I like the idea of having Fredrik appear in one of Elsa's dreams! I'll see what I can do with that.**

**Once again, please read and review! All feedback is welcome.**

**Chapter 10: **

Four year-old Robert skipped down the hall and rapped his tiny knuckles enthusiastically against the smooth wooden surface, behind which resided a roomful of treasured memories with his favorite person in the world. "Jon, are you in there?"

No response. He knocked harder. When his entreaty fell on deaf ears once again, he began pulling and twisting the doorknob.

Finally, the door swung vigorously into the hallway, nearly knocking Robert onto his back. The little boy eagerly scrambled to his feet, beaming as he beheld the dear brother and friend he had not seen in days. But as Jon opened his mouth to speak, his excitement began to wither.

"What do you want?" the older boy snapped harshly, his blue eyes as cold and hollow as the icy caverns of the North Mountain. His body language betrayed the same calloused indifference, as he stood as stiff as an ice sculpture and made no move to reciprocate his brother's affability.

Robert shrank back timidly, but remained hopeful. "Auntie Anna is taking me to the candy store. Do you wanna come?"

"Not interested." Jon's response was terse and irritated. He began to push the door shut.

Robert quickly planted his foot into the trajectory of the closing door, forcing it back open. "Are you sure?"

The walls were on the verge of splintering, as icy tendrils began etching into the polished wood, stressing the material beyond its limits. "Yes! And don't ask again." Jon spun on his heels without another word.

Now the little boy was completely confused. Jon had never turned down a chance to get his hands on some candy. In fact, one of their favorite "games" was to sneak into the kitchens late at night to plunder its stash of delectable sweets, battling Kai in an epic game of cat-and-mouse. It was a family tradition that Mommy and Auntie Anna had established many years ago, and the boys were all too eager to keep it alive. Perhaps his big brother wasn't feeling well, or was simply having a bad day.

Robbie tried once more. "Do you wanna go sledding tomorrow?"

"No!" Jon shouted furiously, as ice swirled about the room with frenzied turbulence. His eyes were bloodshot and murderous. "Now go away!" The crown prince vigorously slammed the door shut, nearly crushing Robert's chubby little fingers in the treacherous crack between the hinges.

"Okay… bye," the four year-old whispered sadly. He walked away with his head down, hugging himself as tears slithered down his cheeks and dripped onto the floor. Confusion and disappointment clouded his mind. What did he do wrong? What on earth could he have done to make Big Brother so angry with him?

_And don't come back,_ Jon thought savagely. The indignation was overwhelming. Just listen to the offhandedness in Robert's tone, and the sheer frivolity of his requests! He didn't seem to notice or care at all that Daddy was never coming back. All he could think about was his own gluttony, self-centeredness, and insistence on getting his way no matter who or what was jeopardized. How could Robert be so oblivious and self-absorbed? How could he be thinking about having fun in a time like this?

A gust of rage consumed his entire body, as ice tingled at his fingertips, demanding release. The young prince drew back both hands and thrust them forward, shattering a mirror with a massive torrent of ice. Thoroughly spent and exhausted, Jon collapsed on his bed in a fit of angry tears.

* * *

><p>A month had passed since Fredrik's death. Jon's angry outbursts only continued to monotonically increase in frequency and intensity. He was constantly rude and aggressive towards everyone, with his mother being a partial exception. His icy magic also flared out of control on a regular basis, but it was the nature of these episodes that was most disconcerting. Whenever Elsa was upset or stressed out in her childhood, clouds of snow and ice would swirl about her vicinity in a chaotic but largely random configuration. Jon's had a distinctly belligerent and offensive nature, and would often cause injury in addition to mere messiness.<p>

One Sunday afternoon, Jon was stalking to his room after lunch. As he marched precipitously along the hallways, he accidentally walked straight into a maid carrying a basket of freshly folded laundry.

"Get out of my way, you fat ugly pig!" he barked angrily. The maid hastily stepped back, bowing and offering profuse words of apology to the crown prince. But Jon was having a bad day, and she would become the unfortunate recipient of his misplaced anger. He ripped the basket out of her hands and tossed it down the staircase, rendering her hard work completely worthless.

A savage sense of vindication and power surged through his veins. "Do you want to go to the dungeons?" he snapped, swirling his hands about menacingly. The terrified woman shook her head vigorously.

"Then clean it up!" Jon summoned a gust of icy wind to again knock the basket from her hands. He gave her his most vicious smirk before vanishing into his room and slamming the door with a loud, cacophonous boom. The poor maid scrambled to pick up the chaotic mess of towels, tablecloths, and clothing strewn all over the burgundy carpet.

Elsa had witnessed the interaction from the door of her study. She fought back tears of anguish at the bitterness and vitriol that permeated Jon's once-angelic voice. How had her baby become a bully? Where was the sweet, innocent child she loved so dearly? With a weary sigh, she set down the document she was working on, and stepped quietly into the hallway. She whispered some heartfelt words of apology to the maid and slipped a few extra coins into her hand. Then she went to inform Anna of what had happened.

"Jon needs some discipline. He can't keep treating people this way. Yesterday he spat in Kai's face because he didn't get the brand of chocolate he wanted." The Snow Queen hated giving out punishments, especially to her own children. But drastic preventative measures were needed to rein in Jon's misbehavior, and unfortunately, only she had the authority to discipline the young prince.

Anna winced at the grim determination in her sister's voice. "The poor boy lost his father. Isn't that enough punishment already? Don't you think we should cut him some slack?"

Elsa shook her head. "Don't forget, we lost our parents too. Both of them, not just one. Jon will keep using this as a license, especially if he knows that we're making excuses for him."

Anna's bright turquoise eyes shone with concern. "But we were much older when Mama and Papa died. Jon is only eight. Maybe he's still struggling to make sense what happened, and this is only a temporary phase. Promise you won't be too hard on him. Right now he needs your love… much more than he needs to be taught a lesson."

At these words, Elsa softened. Her nurturing instincts as a big sister and mother prevailed over her sense of fairness as a ruler. "I promise."

* * *

><p>A soft, somber knock on the door caught Jon's attention. Earlier that day, Robert had asked him to build a snowman after his umpteenth demand to be left in peace. His anger flared to life. In fact, it was this very same mentality of doing whatever he wanted and refusing to listen, with no regard for others —a mindset so characteristic of Robbie—that led to Daddy's death!<p>

The child stomped across the room and jerked the door open. "I've told you a million times not to come back!" Jon screamed with such force and ferocity, he could feel his throat tear. Without thinking, he raised his hands and fired a volley of icicles at the target of his aggravation, wanting this oblivious idiot—whoever he or she was—to taste just a tiny part of the horror that ravaged his insides.

Elsa quickly held up a hand to deflect the blow. The boy calmed down at the sight of his mother. The anger receded slightly from his eyes, but his posture remained confrontational, and his tone as scathing as an eight year-old could manage. "You're here to punish me for being mean to poor innocent Robbie, aren't you? Did I hurt his little feelings?"

"I'm not here to punish you, snowflake. I just want to give you a hug." Elsa knelt down slowly and held out her arms. Bit by bit, Jon's resistance vanished. His defiance melted away to reveal what truly lay behind that ruthless, uncaring façade: a hurt and frightened child. An eight year-old boy whose perfect world had been thrown into complete and utter disarray. He threw himself into his mother's arms, and was gathered in.

For five minutes, not a word was uttered. Elsa patted Jon soothingly on the back, her heart breaking as he sobbed into her shoulder.

"I miss Daddy too, sweetie."

"This is all Robert's fault!" Jon screamed through his tears. Clouds of snow and ice swirled through the air. "I hate him! I wish he died instead!"

Those words were like a dull dagger through the heart. Elsa chose her words carefully, wanting to make Jon feel loved and supported, without condoning his unilateral condemnation of his little brother. Emotions were fragile, and one poorly-chosen word could destroy what tenuous bonds there were left in their family. "Daddy loved you so much, snowflake. I know he would have done the same for you. Mommy would too…" Fighting back tears, she continued, "No matter what happens, I will never stop loving you. Always remember that."

"Jon, I know you're angry with your brother. You don't have to play with Robbie or talk to him. But I plead with you not to hate your brother. We're a family… If we break apart, we have nothing left."

Elsa stopped to think. Jon's outburst must have been set off by Robert asking him to play earlier. The younger boy's lighthearted attitude must have been misconstrued as a sign of indifference to their father's death. "Sometimes it might seem as if Robbie doesn't really care about what happened. He might seem insensitive or oblivious at times. But one day when he is older, he will understand. When the time comes, I know he will miss Daddy every bit as much as you do."

Jon fired another blast of ice across the room, nearly impaling his mother through the hand. "Who's side are you on, anyways?"

"I'm not on anyone's side," Elsa patiently explained. "All I'm saying is—

"If Robbie didn't run off on his own, Daddy would still be alive! I hate him! He is not my brother!"

Once again, Elsa wanted to point out that Robert wasn't the only one guilty of misbehavior that day. All three children had left the campsite without supervision, after they were specifically instructed not to. But it would be pointless to try and convince Jon that his anger was not fully justified. It would only further his feelings of resentment, if it appeared that his mother was taking sides and negating his thoughts.

There was nothing left to be said. Elsa sat silently on the bed, holding Jon in her arms and rocking him as if he were an infant again, until the boy fell into an exhausted slumber.

**Apologies for the delay in posting! As you can tell, writing family interactions is not my forte!**


	11. The Weight of the Crown

**Question:**** Am I making Elsa too harsh or lenient on Jon? I don't have children yet, and (thankfully) have yet to deal with major incidences of grief. Somehow I felt that the interaction between Elsa and Jon could have been written more realistically. Is there something I should've done differently?**

**I feel Jon is in need of discipline, so he will receive some in this chapter. **

**Without further ado, Chapter 11:**

"What do you mean you've run out?" Nine year-old Jon's eyes flashed with anger as he leaned forward, slamming his fists on the countertop.

Isabella was taken aback by his rudeness. She had interacted with the young princes dozens of times in years past, as the boys made frequent trips to the bakery to quench their pathological cravings for sugar. It was a trait they had inherited from their mother and aunt. Never before had she seen Jon so angry and aggressive.

The nervous young woman gave him a pacifying pat on the hand. "The next batch of chocolate cake is already in the oven, sweetie. In the meantime, you can—"

"It's _Your Highness_ to you!" Jon barked.

"Your Highness," Isabella curtsied, "The last slice was just bought by Mr. Hansen. We'll have more ready in thirty minutes."

"Where did he go?" Jon demanded.

"I'm sorry?"

Jon gave an impatient, exasperated huff. "I asked you where Mr. Hansen went after buying the cake! What part of that don't you understand?"

"Forgive me, Your Highness. Last I saw, Mr. Hansen was on his way to the marketplace ten minutes ago. I assume he was—"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I don't care." Jon waved his hand dismissively and walked out the door. He pushed people aside as he strode down block after block, in search of his quarry. Finally, as he rounded a corner and caught sight of a middle-aged man wearing a straw hat and pushing a wagon full of fresh produce, Jon picked up his pace.

"Mr. Hansen!" Jon called out as he approached.

The man turned and gave a warm smile. "Prince Jon," he dipped into a bow at the sight of the young royal.

But Jon was in no mood for pleasantries. He got straight to the point. "You took my cake," he declared curtly.

"Excuse me?"

Jon's tone became harsher. "I said, you ate my slice of cake!"

Mr. Hansen scratched the back of his head awkwardly. "I'm sorry, but I don't quite follow. I was indeed at the bakery this morning, and I did purchase a slice of choc—"

"Give it to me!" Before Mr. Hansen could register his confusion at those words, Jon repeated himself. "That was my slice of cake that you took. I go there every Friday morning."

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't know." Comprehension dawned on his rugged, tanned features. "You see, today is my mother's eightieth birthday, and she loves chocolate. That's the only reason I bought the cake. I'm sure that in a few minutes, they'll have another one ready for you."

Jon was in no mood to be rebuffed. "Do you know who I am?" he snapped, his blue eyes flashing dangerously.

"Your Highness, I do, but—"

Jon puffed out his chest indignantly, his stance defiant and confrontational. How dare this lowly peasant defy him? "I command you to hand over that slice of cake. Now."

Adam Hansen may have been little more than a local produce farmer, but he was also a rugged and independent man. One who neither bullied others, nor allowed himself to be bullied. He descended from a proud lineage of farmers who worked hard, believed in fair play, and took tremendous pride in their simple but honest livelihood. He was never one to delegate respect out of obligation or tradition, firmly believing that respect must be earned.

"I'm sorry, Your Highness, but I cannot agree to that. I waited in line this morning and bought the cake myself. It wouldn't be fair if you simply took it from me. You must learn to be patient and wait your turn."

Jon was completely unaffected by his pontification. He spat viciously, "I am the Crown Prince of Arendelle, and you will treat me with the respect I deserve!" The boy vigorously jabbed a finger over his shoulder, pointing at the massive marble statue of Elsa that dominated the town square. "You see that? One day that will be a statue of me."

The boy's outburst revealed just how fundamentally flawed his understanding of leadership and responsibility was. The little rascal needed to have some perspective knocked into him. Mr. Hansen knelt down to Jon's level, and spoke firmly but patiently. "Throughout our history, nearly a hundred men and women have sat on the throne of Arendelle. So why is it that only a few—your mother included—have received such an honor?" He gestured vaguely at the statue.

Jon continued to pout angrily, but appeared to be at least somewhat listening. Mr. Hansen continued, "Let me tell you why. Because these individuals truly earned the love and admiration of the people, through great things they did. Not simply because of their title. Through compassion, hard work and sacrifice, your mother made great strides for this kingdom. She made Arendelle a better, safer, more comfortable place for all its citizens. That is why she gets respect. That is why she has a statue. Not because of who she is, but because of what she's done. Respect must be earned, not given."

Jon's face flushed crimson with mortification. "Just wait till I tell Mama how you disrespected me! She'll have you flogged and put in the dungeons for talking to me that way!"

Mr. Hansen shook his head slowly and sadly. "Shame on you, Prince Jon," he whispered hoarsely. "If your mother were here, she would be so disappointed in your behavior."

By now, Jon had completely forgotten about the slice of cake. This commoner had disrespected his sovereignty and shamed him in public. With his pride wounded and his patience pushed to its absolute limits, Jon snapped. A haze of red clouded his vision. All he knew was that he wanted to punish this mouthy peasant who dared insult his future king. The nine year-old very deliberately fired a powerful blast of ice from his right hand, shattering a rear wheel of Mr. Hansen's cart. The force of the impact echoed violently through earth and sky, sending fragments of splintered wood ricocheting in all directions.

Mr. Hansen gave an indignant shout. "Hey, you can't do that!"

"I can, and I have." Another streak of ice flew from the boy's fingertips, demolishing a second wheel and sending the contents of the wagon spilling onto the ground.

By now, Mr. Hansen was scrambling about on his hands and knees, desperately trying to salvage his goods. Complete and utter dismay was etched into every line of his ruddy, wrinkled face. Months of planting and harvesting, and countless drops of blood and sweat had been spent to produce such a bountiful yield. Jon gave him a haughty smirk and shot a third blast of ice, smashing all the fruits and vegetables into pulp.

* * *

><p>"Let me go, you big bully!" The enraged and indignant nine year-old wriggled furiously and attempted to kick his captor in the shins. "How dare you put your hands on me! Who do you think you are?"<p>

Kai tightened his grip and glared down at the young royal. "Young man, you disgrace yourself and your mother with this shameful conduct."

"I hate you! Let me go!" Jon stomped on Kai's foot as hard as he could, but the large man would not relinquish his hold.

Kai shook his head firmly and looked the boy straight in the eye. "If you were my son, believe me, I would whip you raw. If you were my son, you would receive no fewer than three dozen strokes of the belt. But as you are not, I will leave you to your mother."

As Jon continued to struggle and complain and issue threats, Kai dragged him into the castle gates and up the stairs, before depositing him in the hallway outside the royal library. He quickly informed Elsa of what had happened, before bowing and dismissing himself.

"Come in, my son." Jon gingerly stepped into the room, his head lowered and his heart pounding with trepidation. He really blew it this time. He had gone too far. The boy trembled as he imagined his mother's reaction to his latest episode of misbehavior. Terrifying visions flashed through his mind as stood awaiting the wrath of the Snow Queen. His eyes drifted nervously towards a thick leather cord draped over the arm of the sofa, no doubt ready to shred his backside into mincemeat.

Elsa set down the document she was writing to the Southern Isles, and turned to face her firstborn. "Kai told me what happened in the marketplace today." She paused, allowing him a chance to explain himself. To tell his side of the story.

When the silence remained unbroken, she continued, "You seem to think you can do whatever you want with no repercussions, simply because you are the Crown Prince of Arendelle." Her voice was dangerously soft.

The accusation stung. How dare anyone shame the future king, the heir apparent, in such a fashion? Indignation and self-righteousness blazed through the cerulean eyes of the young prince. "That peasant insulted me!" he spat.

Elsa ran a hand through her neat blonde hair. "Do you have any idea how poorly this reflects upon you as a human being? How immature and self-centered it makes you appear? Jon, why do you do these things? Why?"

"I dunno." Jon rolled his eyes, crossed his arms and pouted. He was sick of that question, and to be perfectly honest, he really didn't know why he behaved the way he did. He was fed up with being hauled around and interrogated like a criminal on trial. _Explain this, apologize for that. Do this, don't do that._ Someone was always bossing him around. It seemed his whole life revolved around being nagged and lectured at by one adult after another. Worst of all, people were constantly telling him to be more like his mother. When would it ever end?

Elsa sensed the pride and rebellion simmering beneath his cool exterior. "Come with me, Jon. There is something I want to show you."

She took his hand and led him down several hallways, until they arrived at an enormous portrait gallery. The walls were adorned with a magnificent lineup of paintings depicting past monarchs on their coronation day. From the ones who founded Arendelle over five centuries ago, to Adgar and finally Elsa. Jon tilted back his head in petrified reverence, utterly transfixed by the strong, imposing effigies that stared back at him. Etched into these walls was a proud legacy that he couldn't wait to become a part of.

Elsa slowly pulled open a drawer, and picked up the scepter and orb that she had held on her coronation day. She gingerly handed them to her son. They were the only objects in the castle that could fully capture his attention and reverence.

"Here, try holding these."

With glowing eyes, the boy reached for the sacred relics. A shuddering spasm of pride and purpose surged through his body as the smooth, cold metal brushed against his fingertips. This was his destiny, his birthright. He gazed longingly at the empty space next to Elsa's portrait, awaiting the distant someday when King Jon of Arendelle would take his rightful place in history. One day, he would proudly stand before a nation of adoring subjects, and take the sacred oath to be the unquestioned ruler and protector of his dominion. He would never be challenged, never be scolded or lectured at ever again.

Elsa set the crown gently upon his platinum blonde head, and turned him towards a body-length mirror. "Whoa!" Jon beamed at his reflection.

"You look wonderful, Jon. One day, it will all be yours. One day, your portrait will be on these walls." Her expression softened slightly. "One day you will wear the crown, my son, but it does not make you a king. Jon, it is only a piece of metal. Crowns have been worn by all sorts of men throughout history. A good king must show wisdom, compassion, and fairness to everyone. He cares for his subjects as his own children, and commits himself to bettering all of their lives."

"He must be strong too." Jon proudly tugged the oversized ceremonial robe over his shoulders, and smiled up at his mother. "A king doesn't let anyone push him around or disrespect him." He twirled the scepter about his fingers.

"Yes, he must be strong indeed." Elsa placed a hand on the young prince's shoulder and knelt down to his level. "But Jon, strength isn't about using your title to intimidate people. That is the behavior of a tyrant and a bully. A good king must be able to stand his ground and be assertive, but only to combat injustice and stand up for what is right. Not to force others to give him whatever he wants. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mama." A genuine look of contrition flashed in his eyes. Jon began to get scared, and trembled as a repressed memory began to resurface.

* * *

><p><em>Flashback:<em>

Six year-old Jon glanced up and down the aisle of the candy store, salivating at row after row of delicious chocolate truffles. Dark chocolate with walnut. Milk chocolate with strawberry cream. Dozens of varieties that he had yet to taste. No one was watching. So as six year-olds were apt to do, Jon smoothly tucked a handful of sweets into his pocket, and left the store undetected.

His clandestine operation remained undiscovered, until the royal family returned home and two year-old Robert began hollering that he wanted some candy too. This immediately caught Fredrik's attention.

"How on earth did you pay for all this?" Fredrik raised an eyebrow in confusion as he sifted through dozens of expensive chocolate pieces.

"Jon taked it," Robbie responded innocently.

That was all Fredrik needed to hear. Lying and stealing were unforgivable. These would not be dismissed or marginalized under the pretense of normal childhood mischief. He marched his eldest boy straight back to the candy store, and made him explain. Dozens of people were watching and listening. Embarrassed, terrified, and in tears, Jon confessed.

The store clerk responded graciously, "You can have it, since you were brave enough to tell the truth."

Fredrik shook his head resolutely, "No, he cannot have it. It isn't his candy." Without another word, he removed his belt and whipped it across Jon's bottom with a deafening crack. More and more people huddled around the store windows to watch, intrigued yet terrified at the wrath of their king, but Fredrik made no motion to shoo them away. He continued to mete out discipline until he had nearly worn a hole into the child's pants. Long, slippery ropes of tears and mucus ceaselessly slithered down Jon's cheeks, forming a sloppy puddle on his shirt, before dripping onto the floor. He screamed and bawled and promised to never do it again, but received no rest until all twenty strokes were administered.

Finally, his punishment was mercifully over. Jon collapsed to the floor, his knees trembling and a violent fit of sobs rendering him completely incoherent. Fredrik shook his belt in Jon's face. "If this ever happens again, you get thirty lashes, pants down. You hate it when I punish you? Well, I hate it even more when you steal." Then he grabbed the boy by the arm and dragged him through the public streets and back to the castle.

The incident was never mentioned from that day onward, but Jon never dared entertain the idea of shoplifting ever again.

* * *

><p>Elsa must have sensed his trepidation, as she mollified his unspoken fears. "Jon, I will not hit you, and I promise that I never will." His breath escaped in a quivering sigh, as relief flooded his heart. But Jon's exhilaration faltered at her next words.<p>

"However, your behavior today was completely out of line, and you must atone for what you've done. For the rest of the month, you will shovel the stables and wash dishes. With your birthday money, you will buy Mr. Hansen a new wagon and compensate him three times the cost of his merchandise."

Jon gasped. Never in his life had he been asked to dirty his hands. It was demeaning and completely beneath someone of his birth. How shameful it would be for all of Arendelle to see their Crown Prince on his hands and knees, toiling like a common dirt farmer? "But Mama," he started to complain.

"No excuses." She shut him up at once. "You are old enough to understand that actions have consequences. The same laws of human decency apply to everyone in this kingdom, royalty or not."

Jon lowered his head. "I'll do as you've asked, Mama."

Elsa smiled and patted him on the back. "There's a good boy. Accountability is the mark of a king in training."

As unruly and recalcitrant as he was, Jon idolized Elsa. He was entranced by the soft and graceful, yet unquestioningly authoritative manner in which she spoke. How the people of Arendelle glowed with respect and affection at the mere mention of her. How the Snow Queen could command respect without raising her voice or losing her temper. Jon knew he had a lot of growing and maturing left to do, if he was ever to anything remotely close to the leader his mother was.

**Prince Brat has been punished.**


	12. Chocolate

***Jon is misbehaving again. Elsa asks him to stop***

**Jon: "You're too much of a pussy to stop me."**

**Elsa: "Oh yeah? Try me." **

***She freezes his hands and feet in place, and delivers 100 lashes across his rear end. Or until the belt snaps in half, whichever comes first.***

* * *

><p><strong>Kidding aside, do you guys think Elsa should give Jon a spanking sometime in the next few chapters? If he has another "incident" of equal magnitude to what he did in Chapter 11? <strong>

**Another question for those who read Playing Dirty: Would you like to see Hans make an appearance? If so, in what context?**

**Anyways, there's more of Disciplinarian Elsa in this chapter, since that seems to be what people want!**

**Chapter 12:**

Jon wiped his hands clean after finishing a stack of dirty dishes. It had hardly been a week, and already he was regretting his behavior in the marketplace that day. "Three more days, and I'm done."

As Jon passed through the halls, a blur of color caught his eye. A portrait of his father hung on the wall, frozen in time. Tears sprang to the boy's eyes, as he reminisced upon the blissful days that would never return. Of the happy family that would never again be complete.

A furtive glance over his shoulder revealed that he was all alone. The young prince began to involuntarily speak aloud.

"I could feel you watching me, Papa. I guess that means you saw what happened last week. You must be disappointed in me too. I know I was wrong, but Mr. Hansen made me so angry, I couldn't control myself. I know he wouldn't have talked to Mama the way he talked to me… It's just… I'm so frustrated all the time. I feel I'm under so much pressure, and everyone is always picking on me. Everybody says that I need to be more responsible and mature if I want to be a good king for Arendelle someday. People are always telling me to be more like Mama, but they don't respect me the way they respect Mama. It's not fair…"

"I feel like I'm all alone. Everybody is constantly telling me what to do, but nobody seems to really care how I feel. Except for Mama. And Robbie makes me so mad all the time. He doesn't miss you as much as I do. He was upset for a few weeks, and then he was back to normal again. I don't see how he can get over this so easily. It almost seems like he doesn't care, and it makes me so angry when he asks me to play. Sometimes I wish Robbie would go away, so I never have to see him again."

As his monologue came to a close and Jon turned to leave, he uttered one final vow. "I wish you were here, Papa. And I promise I'll try to behave myself."

Jon was about to pull open the door to his room and disappear into his sanctuary away from the cruel, oppressive outside world, when a series of bouncy footsteps interrupted the silence. He turned to see Robbie skipping towards him. His resolution was instantly forgotten, as the source of his chronic aggravation came into view.

"Guess what day it is!" Robert sang.

"What?" the older boy responded in a cool, emotionless tone.

"It's my birthday! Today I'm five. That's this many!" Robert held up five fingers. "Mommy said now I'm a big boy and I can learn to do rithmetrick."

"It's _arithmetic_, you dumb piece of reindeer poop. And I learned it when I was four," Jon muttered under his breath. Fortunately, Robert did not hear, as he continued to babble excitedly.

"We're having a party tonight! And Gerda is making a big chocolate—"

_Chocolate._ That simple word carried a painful connotation far deeper than its superficial meaning. It reminded Jon of what happened in the marketplace last week. The Crown Prince of Arendelle had been scolded and lectured at by a farmer, hauled through the streets like a common criminal, and made to wash dishes and shovel stables. Kai had even suggested that Elsa administer him a whipping. The nerve of that man! Jon's dormant anger and indignation at his shoplifting escapade three years ago also flared back to life. Being shamed in public. Papa's belt biting into his flesh. Hundreds of people receiving knowledge of his crime, and watching as he was reduced to a sobbing wreck. The boy had also been sent to bed without supper that night, and a month had passed before the welts across his bottom fully healed. _Come to think of it, I only got caught that time because Robbie made so much noise. It's his fault I was punished. Robbie has been nothing but trouble since he was two years old. _

All that humiliation and injustice had been suffered over some chocolate cake and candies. Jon's icy cold skin suddenly became hot.

"… And then after that, Mommy is taking us to—"

"Enough." Jon snapped. "I don't want to hear any more." He began to push the door shut.

Hurt and confusion seeped into Robert's cheerful expression. "Jon, aren't you coming to my party?"

"No."

"Why not?"

Jon huffed impatiently. "Why do you even care? You should be happy I'm not coming. That way there's more cake for you." His voice dripped with smugness and sarcasm.

Robbie's lower lip quivered as tears welled in his eyes. "It won't be as fun if you aren't there." But Jon had already slammed the door before he could finish.

"Go away!" an angry voice echoed from behind the door.

* * *

><p>"I think Jon is sick," Robert announced.<p>

Elsa looked up from her paperwork. "What makes you say that, sweetie?"

"He doesn't want to come to my party. And he doesn't like chocolate anymore."

Elsa winced at the irony of Robert's words. The little boy had no idea how accurate his assessment was, albeit not in the literal sense. Jon was well physically, but his heart and soul were as sick as could be. The Snow Queen feared that her eldest son had been irreversibly altered by the tragedy, and only in her memory did there still exist the sweet, lovable child he once was.

"Did Jon say why he's not coming?" Elsa pressed gently. She suspected that there was more to the brothers' interaction, than a simple _no_ from Jon.

The five year-old shook his head. "No. He told me to go away." His next words tore her heart to pieces.

"Mommy, I don't think Jon loves me anymore." Robert sucked his thumb. "Is it because I did something bad?"

"No, Robbie. You've been a very good boy." Elsa picked Robert up and set him in her lap. She wanted so badly to assure the poor child that his brother still loved him. But that was not her promise to keep. "Jon misses Daddy very much. He is having a really hard time, and so sometimes he will say mean things because he feels so much hurt. I will talk to your brother, and help him find a more positive way to deal with his feelings."

Robbie leaned against his mother's chest. "I miss Daddy too. But you said that Daddy is in heaven with Grandma and Grandpa and Sven. And one day we will see him again, right?"

Elsa kissed him lightly on the cheek. "That's right, sweetie. We will always be sad when someone we love has died. But then we can be happy, when we realize that they are safe in heaven, where nothing can hurt them." She wiped away a tear and gazed into his bright green eyes. _Fredrik's eyes_, she thought affectionately. "Mommy misses Daddy too. But nothing can ever take away all the wonderful memories of him that we already have. Thinking about that makes me feel better."

The five year-old perked up. "Mommy, can we leave a slice of cake for Jon? Maybe it will make him feel better too!"

"Of course. That's very sweet of you, Robbie." The littlest prince scampered away to deliver his message to Gerda, knocking over at least three suits of armors as he bolted down the stairs.

Elsa smiled to herself. _Just like his Auntie Anna._ It felt so good to hear the castle ringing with laughter and children's footsteps racing through the halls. But there was another child in the castle whom she wanted to be happy too. Elsa rose from her heavy oaken chair and treaded softly down the thick carpet, until she arrived at Jon's door.

She lifted a hand and rapped gently on the door. "Jon?" Elsa called out softly. Remembering his precarious emotional state and tenuous control over his powers, she cautiously took a step back and held up both hands defensively.

But Jon was surprisingly calm when the door swung open. The resentment was still evident in his eyes, but he set off no haphazard explosions of ice. That was a substantial improvement from last time.

Elsa took a deep breath and spoke diplomatically. "Jon, don't you think you've been angry at your brother for long enough?"

Jon glared crossly at his mother. "Why are you always on Robbie's side? You're always defending him!"

"I've told you before, I'm not on anyone's side. But it's not healthy to carry so much anger with you. Jon, it also hurts the rest of us to see you so upset, because we care about you."

The nine year-old rolled his eyes sardonically. "Whatever."

"Watch your attitude, young man," Elsa chided. When Jon's disrespectful pout vanished, she continued in a softer tone. "Jon, you don't have to come to the party. But you really should try and make peace with your brother. Robbie really misses you. He can tell that you're unhappy, and he wants to help."

Guilt and contrition nudged at Jon's conscience. He had behaved badly. "Yes Mama, I'll try," he mumbled.

Elsa smiled at her firstborn. "I know you can do it."

* * *

><p>Jon was sitting quietly in his room, skimming unseeingly through an old treasury of children's fairy tales, when a soft shuffling outside the door caught his attention. The young prince reminisced upon the vow he made to his mother. He would try to be a little less unpleasant. Try to make peace with Robbie. Or at the very least, he would try not to explode in a fit of anger and self-pity every time his little brother stepped into view.<p>

He glanced at the clock. Ten-thirty. The castle was quiet, indicating that the party must be over by now. Perhaps this would be a good chance for him to talk to Robbie in a more subdued and less festive environment, which would surely be conducive to a smooth interaction.

But as Jon pulled open the door with elevated spirits and budding hopes, his resolve crumbled at once. Sitting on the hallway floor was a thick slice of chocolate cake on a porcelain dish, and a folded sheet of parchment with a poorly-drawn crayon snowflake. It was a crude illustration of two boys playing in the snow. Underneath was a line of childish manuscript. _I lov you Jon. Pleese bild a snoman with me._

_I told you a million times I didn't want anything to do with that stupid party! Do you ever listen?_ Jon screamed in silent frustration. He had made his point clear, and Robbie had tried yet again to make him part of the celebration that he was so reluctant to join. What must he do to make Robbie understand?

Jon gripped the paper in his trembling hands. He wanted to tear apart this grotesque misrepresentation of reality. To destroy this taunting effigy of the happy childhood that was gone forever. Without another thought, he tore the drawing into pieces, and scattered the bits of paper all over the carpet in front of Robert's door. Then Jon picked up the dish of chocolate cake, and smashed it against the wall with all the force and fury he could muster. The floors and walls were instantly littered with broken glass and spattered chocolate that spanned at least ten meters of the hallway. _There, _he thought viciously, as he retreated back behind his door. _That'll teach Robbie a lesson._

The commotion would not go unnoticed, as Jon heard a door creak open down the hall, followed by a child's heartbroken wail. "Mommy!"

The nine year-old continued listening for several minutes, to the muffled sounds of Elsa comforting Robbie and sending him off to sleep. Soon he could hear the rapid footsteps of his mother approaching.

Jon was expecting this. Before Elsa could deliver a single knock, he pulled the door open in a swift, deliberate motion. But he took a quick step back at the unfamiliar and uncharacteristic anger flashing in his mother's eyes.

"Jon, what is the meaning of this?" Elsa swept her arm back and gestured furiously at the mess in the hallway.

When he gave no response, she continued in a fast, furious tone. "Jon, shame on you! This is getting ridiculous! It's okay to be upset, but this lack of civility needs to stop. Can't you see that Robbie is trying—"

At these words, Jon became angry too. "Robbie has been evil since the day he was born! He's been ruining my life forever!" he spat viciously. "I was only four years old, but I remember you almost died giving birth to him! Then he got me in trouble at the candy store, when he ratted me out to Daddy! And then—"

"Jon, that's enough!"

"Since when does Robbie care about anyone besides himself? He doesn't even know what I've been through! None of you have any idea!"

Jon's impudence withered as Elsa took on a steely, commanding voice that he seldom heard her use. "Jon, stop it. You aren't being fair. You're not the only person who's suffering. Robbie also lost his father, and Uncle Kristoff lost Sven last month. But they aren't lashing out at everyone. The way you've been treating people is inexcusable. That poor maid never did anything to you! What about Mr. Hansen? Kai?"

"What do you mean Robbie _lost_ his father? He's the reason Daddy is dead! He always ruins everything! Why did you even let him come with us?"

"Let me also remind you that you and Kristen also left the campsite. Robbie wasn't the only one who did something wrong. Put your self-righteousness aside, and apologize to your brother!" The hallway was getting dangerously cold, as Mother and Son shouted back and forth.

Jon couldn't dispute that fact. But logic and emotion were completely immiscible, and feelings could not be argued out of existence. "Fine, be that way. I'm going to bed!" he snapped crossly. Jon reached for the doorknob, but found his door frozen shut with a coat of ice he did not create. He tried to unfreeze the seal, but he was far too angry and Elsa's powers were far stronger.

"Unfreeze this right now!" he screamed furiously, his eyes wet with angry tears. Elsa shook her head firmly.

"You are responsible for cleaning up this mess. Now. I want this hallway completely pristine."

"That will take all night!" Jon protested.

"Well, you should've thought of that before," Elsa tried to remain calm, but her voice trembled with anger and grief. "You may use the restroom or get a drink of water at any time. But you may not go to sleep or have breakfast until the job is done." Elsa turned and strode in the opposite direction, trying to hide the tears that continuously streamed down her cheeks. _Why, Jon? Why?_

**I'm sorry I let Sven die! But if you think about it, it's been 12-13 years since the events of Frozen. That makes him an old reindeer recovering from a nasty injury. More on Anna/Kristoff's perspective in later chapters!**


	13. King Hans of the Southern Isles

**Guest**** and ****Guest:**** I will have Fredrik appear in one of Elsa's dreams in later chapters! We will learn more about him then. I'll also consider delving more into how Jon's psyche was affected by his very drastic punishment. Yes, Fredrik has some temper control issues. Thank you for such a long and comprehensive review!**

**A very special someone will be making an appearance! Yes, you read that correctly. Someone from Elsa's past will be coming… to give our dear Prince Brat a little talk. **

**To those of you who didn't read ****Playing Dirty****, feel free to PM me for an explanation if anything doesn't make sense in these next few chapters. There is also a brief recap in Chapter 1 of this story. **

**Chapter 13:**

An empty seat at the dining table during breakfast was no strange occurrence. It was not at all uncommon for Elsa to rise in the wee hours of the morning, when the castle was still dark and the kingdom devoid of activity, to begin her day. But it was very atypical for the Snow Queen to not be found in any of her usual locations. Her study was empty, as was the library. Nor was she in the castle gardens. Or in her bedchambers. Or giving lessons to nine year-old Jon or five year-old Robert, whose cheeks were stained with watery residues that morning.

Anna was utterly convinced that something was amiss. Her sister was impeccably organized, and never deviated from her routine. The redhead patrolled through the halls, searching room after room. Finally, a draft of icy wind emanating from a seldom-traveled corridor on the fourth floor gave her a hint. Anna pushed open the door to a room that she hardly knew existed, and found a very despondent Elsa sitting hunched over on the floor. Her shoulders heaved with silent sobs as she glanced down at an object in her hands.

"Elsa, what's wrong?"

No response. Anna took a cautious step forward, careful not to slip on the ice that was crawling across the floor. When she reached Elsa's side after nearly a minute of awkward stumbling, she wrapped a comforting arm around the older woman's shoulder.

The blonde tilted her head sideways and peeked at Anna out the corner of one eye. "I don't get it." Fresh tears leaked down both sides of her face. "What am I doing wrong?"

"What do you mean?" Anna asked, confused. A closer look revealed that Elsa held in her hands a framed portrait of four year-old Jon proudly holding an infant Robert in his arms. His bright sapphire eyes glowed with pride and affection. Then she understood. "Did something happen with Jon?"

Elsa nodded through her tears. Anna patted her sympathetically on the back and scooted closer, but made no motion to speak. With hands trembling and a violent fit of sobs threatening to burst from her chest, she explained all that had happened the previous night. "I think I'm losing Jon," Elsa admitted. "No matter what I say, I can't get through to him. I do believe that deep down inside, Jon doesn't want to act this way. He has shown some remorse, and he's promised to try and change. But all the bitterness and negativity is just too much to overcome. So his resolution never lasts more than a week."

Anna patted her comfortingly on the hand. "Have you ever thought of having someone else talk to Jon? Elsa, don't you see? Jon is afraid of you."

"Afraid of me?" Elsa was completely confused by these words. She racked her brains and scoured her memory for every interaction she'd ever had with Jon in the past. Perhaps she overreacted at some point? Did she ever lose her temper and say something hurtful? But her ruminations came up empty. "Why would Jon be afraid of me? Do you think I've been too harsh on him?"

The redhead chuckled. "I don't mean it that way. We all know you're the nicest, warmest, gentlest person ever. What I mean is, Jon is intimidated by who you are. He idolizes you. He wants so much to be just like you when he grows up, and he's afraid he'll never be good enough. I know it makes you awkward and uncomfortable to hear tales of the super awesome badass Snow Queen everywhere you go. Now imagine how that makes Jon feel."

"Do you think you could talk to Jon?" Elsa asked hesitantly. "Or maybe Kristoff? Jon is convinced that I could never understand how he feels. Maybe Kristoff could relate to him better, since he lost someone too." Elsa began tearing up again at the memory of the lovable reindeer that was laid to rest just last month. An ever-present friend, and a fearless warrior that had helped save Arendelle with his tenacity and courage thirteen years ago.

"You lost someone too, Elsa. We all did. Anyways, I have an even better idea." A mischievous glint began settling into Anna's turquoise eyes. "Isn't it almost the tenth anniversary of the Great Poison Fiasco? Didn't we invite a certain _Uncle Hans_ to town next week for the Harvest Festival? Perhaps a neutral third-party perspective is what Jon needs."

For the first time in weeks, Elsa smiled.

* * *

><p>All of Arendelle was buzzing with excitement as the people prepared for the famous September Harvest Festival. The unprecedented number of vendors erecting tents and booths were a powerful testament to the strength of the people. The thousands of pumpkins that were carved, and the wreaths of flowers and autumn leaves that hung from every building proved that any tragedy could be overcome through love and resilience. Love had the power to save lives, restore hope, and transform a man who once tried to murder children into one who tirelessly advocated for their well-being.<p>

But an undercurrent of somberness permeated the cheery atmosphere. It was indeed the tenth anniversary of the terrible tragedy that almost brought Arendelle to its knees. The tenth anniversary of a joyous occasion becoming an unmitigated disaster. The tenth anniversary of an entire generation nearly being snuffed out of existence.

The tenth anniversary of Elsa lying quietly atop a stony altar, preparing to surrender her life for the salvation of the people. Elsa stumbling through the wilderness cold, hungry and fatigued; bloody, bruised and broken-boned, ready to make the ultimate sacrifice.

The wounds ran deep, and not all were ready to forgive. It was for this very reason a soft murmur of indignant whispers could be heard, as a ship flying the flag of the Southern Isles docked in the main harbor. A gangplank was lowered, a bugle sounded, and a tall auburn-haired man flanked by guards walked regally down the length of pier, before making his way through the castle gates.

King Hans of the Southern Isles had arrived. But before he could be properly introduced, a little blond-haired boy pushed past the guards and enveloped him in a tight hug. "Uncle Hans!" Five year-old Robert shrieked with delight. He began bouncing up and down in excitement. "Pick me up!" But before Hans could make a single move, Robbie grabbed him by the hands and began sprinting towards the Great Hall. "Mommy, Mommy! He's here!"

Hans planted a gentle kiss on Elsa's hand. "Looking good, Frosty. Thirteen years since we first met, and you haven't aged one bit. Gee, what other magic do you have? Do you crap rainbows and unicorns too?"

Elsa blushed. "Hans, language!"

Robert cut in. "Mommy, can I show Uncle Hans my birthday presents?"

"Of course you may, sweetie." The little prince grabbed Hans and was about to drag him to the next room, when a soft patter of footsteps in the doorway stopped him. Jon entered the room with a scowl, presumably to berate his brother for making too much noise. But his face lit up at the sight of their guest. "Uncle Hans! You're here!"

Hans clapped the boy jovially on the shoulder. "How're you doing, bud? I've missed you guys!"

For the first time in nearly a year, the ruefulness vanished completely from Jon's eyes, supplanted by genuine warmth. "Uncle Hans, we're so happy to see you! The Harvest Festival starts tomorrow. It'll be the most amazing thing ever! You'll never have more fun in your life. We have to enter the pumpkin carving contest together! And the pig-wrestling! Auntie Anna and Uncle Kristoff have won the pig-wrestling for seven years in a row. We have to beat them!"

At the mention of the Harvest Festival, a noticeable ambiance of guilt and contrition began to cloud Hans' features, and he became very conspicuously uneasy. Hans didn't want anything to do with the Harvest Festival after what happened ten years ago. But how could he dampen the children's enthusiasm? The red-haired man forced himself to smile and tried to suppress the agitation from his demeanor.

Robbie piped up. "We also get to throw sponges and Mommy and Auntie Anna! That's most people's favorite thing. But my favorite is the magician!"

At the word _magician_, Hans involuntarily gasped aloud. Drops of cold, clammy sweat trickled down his forehead. Memories of the wicked, treacherous deeds he performed ten years ago vividly flashed through his mind. It was a torturous recollection that he had worked long and hard to banish from the minds of all who knew him, wishing to forever bury it in the sands of time. That terrible word invoked a plethora of guilt and self-loathing that made Hans want to scratch out his own eyes and tear open his entrails. His knees buckled, and he sank to the floor.

Elsa knelt by his side, her eyes fraught with concern. "Hans, it's all right. Snap out of it." Hans continued to tremble and sweat profusely. Jon and Robert exchanged confused glances. But before they could voice their inquiries, Kai hastily stepped forward and ushered them away.

Tears began welling in Hans' hazel eyes and splashing down his cheeks. "No it's not all right. Oh Elsa, how could I? Those poor children… they were the same ages as Jon and Robbie. And it's my fault you almost died about a hundred times. I'm such a wretched, miserable man. I don't deserve to live…"

Elsa smiled comfortingly and helped Hans to his feet. "I _almost_ died. But because of you, I didn't. Twice you saved my life, and it wasn't easy the second time." She gestured at the missing index finger on his hand. "Then you owned up to what you did, punished yourself, and spent the last ten years making a positive difference in the lives of others."

Hans continued to wail and blubber, as more memories began to resurface. "But I hit you, spat in your face, called you so many horrible names, even tried to rape you..."

"Oh Hans, I forgave you the moment I saw you on your knees, begging Grand Pabbie to spare my life and take yours instead." She took both his hands into her own. "Hans, you're a good man. It's time you forgave yourself."

Hans chuckled darkly. "I guess the kids don't know the truth, otherwise they wouldn't be so fond of their dear Uncle Hans."

Elsa shook her head. "No, I haven't told them yet."

"I think it's time we tell Jon."

Elsa grimaced at this suggestion. "It's an awfully dark and depressing story. Can't hurt to wait a few more years, don't you think? The way Jon has been acting up recently…"

Hans shook his head softly but firmly. "Jon is old enough to understand, and I believe he has the maturity to handle the truth. Besides, I think my little freak-out earlier was more than a little suspicious. More importantly, I think it will be good for him. Jon has to know what you were willing to go through and sacrifice for the people. If you could knock Hans Sebastian Westergard off his high horse, then you can definitely reach through to Jon."

At these words, Elsa softened. Nothing she did seemed to have any long-term effect on Jon's rudeness, hostility, or outlandish sense of entitlement. She was at the end of her rope and was willing to try anything. "I guess you're right," she conceded.

* * *

><p>"Uncle Hans, what happened back there?" Jon knitted his eyebrows in confusion.<p>

"What do you mean?" Hans feigned ignorance.

"Robbie and I were telling you all about the Harvest Festival, when you almost passed out. You still look kinda sick, actually."

Hans tried to breathe normally, but he couldn't stop the accumulation of sweat in his palms or the frantic pounding of his heart. Finally, he found his voice again. "Jon, has your mother ever told you how she got her statue?"

Jon shrugged. "People say she did great things for Arendelle."

Hans' eyes darted back and forth between Jon and Elsa. "Has anyone ever told you what exactly those _great things_ were?" The nine year-old shook his head.

Hans was on the verge of hyperventilation as he continued. "And has your mother ever told you how she got those scars on her wrists? Why her hands are always sore?"

Jon shook his head again. "No. I've always assumed it's because she spends so much time on paperwork. At least that's what Auntie Anna says."

Hans gritted his teeth and uttered his final inquiry. "One more thing. Do you know why some people in Arendelle don't like me?"

The boy was completely taken aback. "I've always wondered about that! Mama said she would tell me when I was older. But Uncle Hans, how can anyone not like you? And why so many random questions?"

Elsa smiled wistfully and patted Jon on the shoulder. "They aren't random, sweetie."

Hans nodded in agreement. "Jon, it's time you learned the truth." Then the auburn-haired man grimaced and cracked his knuckles agonizingly. He drew a deep breath through clenched teeth, and forced himself to keep speaking. "But first, I must tell you some terrible things about myself."

**Chapter 14 comes out later this week! Once again, please let me know if you would like anything explained regarding Hans.**


	14. Hans Confesses

**If you read ****Playing Dirty****, then this chapter will be things you already know! **

**Actually, I take that back. We will learn more about Hans' childhood, and why his father/brothers were so awful. **

**A few readers have asked if there will be any Helsa. Nope! They will remain platonic friends.**

**Warning:**** Hans is still a pervert. **

**Chapter 14:**

Elsa quickly held up her hand before Hans could begin. "Jon," she spoke gently, "What we're about to tell you is a true story. Some parts will be pretty upsetting, and they might make you angry. But I ask that you keep an open mind and let Uncle Hans explain everything, before jumping to conclusions." The boy nodded in agreement and turned his attention to Hans.

Hans took a deep breath. "When I was younger, I did some truly terrible things. Sometimes I still lie awake at night, thinking about the past, hating the man I used to be. I was arrogant, foolish, and full of hatred. It nearly destroyed me. If not for your mother, it would have."

Jon's mouth fell open. "Uncle Hans, you have to be kidding. There's no way you could ever do anything that bad."

Hans smiled ruefully. "We'll let you be the judge of that. Let's start from the beginning. As you probably know, I am the youngest of thirteen brothers. I had a happy childhood, until—"

"Wait," Jon interrupted. "If you have twelve older brothers, how did you become King? What happened to them?"

"I'm getting there. Anyways, when I was little, I had everything a kid could ever want. A loving family and a wonderful home. Everything was perfect, until one terrible incident ruined it all."

Jon was listening intently, and so was Elsa. This was news to her, too. She had known in years past that Hans had an abusive childhood, but he never divulged how it came to be. Hans' eyes glistened with tears as he continued dredging up his wretched, miserable past. "When I was three years old, there was a fire in the castle. Everyone escaped, except for me. I was busy playing, and wasn't aware of what was going on. My mother ran back inside to save me. I was fine, but she wasn't so lucky. More than half of her skin was burned away, and she suffered permanent damage to her bones and internal organs as well. The doctors couldn't do a thing. She would be confined to a bed for the rest of her life."

Hans wiped away a tear. "The rest of my family turned on me after that. They blamed me for what happened to my mother. My father was devastated. He loved her so much. She was the most beautiful woman that ever lived, and… wait. Actually, that's not true. Even she couldn't beat Frosty's nice curvaceous ass or fat juicy tits."

Elsa slapped the side of his head. "Hans, get on with the story!"

"Not even Father Time could destroy those succulent mounds of pure—"

"Hans!"

The former villain grinned sheepishly. "Sorry Frosty, couldn't help myself." His cavalier attitude vanished and was replaced by solemnity. With a heavy sigh, Hans continued the tale. "My father became an alcoholic. He would drink himself into oblivion every night, trying to numb the pain of his loss. But the alcohol also made him angry and violent. He started lashing out at everyone—the castle staff, our citizens, his advisors, my brothers, and especially me. Nothing was ever the same again."

"My three oldest brothers have always been bullies. I was used to them being mean to me. But what really hurt was that they turned the rest of my brothers against me too. They beat me up, broke my toys, and threw me down flights of stairs. I couldn't understand what was going on. I kept trying to play with them as we did before, but they always pushed me away. I didn't have a single friend left in the world."

Elsa laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Hans, I'm so sorry. I never knew…"

Hans gave her an appreciative smile and continued. "When I was seven, my mother died from her injuries. My father and brothers got even worse after that. Sometimes I would be locked in the dungeons for a week without food. I was physically and verbally abused almost every day, and I never knew why. Until I was a teenager. One of our most trusted servants, who had been my nanny, told me everything. That was when I snapped."

"It wasn't fair. I didn't start the fire. I didn't ask my mother to run back and save me. I didn't choose for any of this to happen. But my father and brothers were so hurt and upset, they had to blame someone. It's very hard to be impartial and assess a situation rationally, when there are so many emotions involved. They needed an outlet for their anger. So they took it out on me. This is when my downward spiral began. I became mean and spiteful too. I took pleasure in inflicting pain on others. If I couldn't be happy, I didn't want anyone to be. Worst of all, I became hungry for power. An unquenchable thirst to prove myself."

"Thirteen years ago, I was a guest at your mother's coronation. I saw a chance to marry into the throne. Your Auntie Anna was only seventeen at the time, and so naïve. I saw my chance. It was so easy to trick her into believing that I was her Prince Charming. She agreed to marry me at once…" Hans proceeded to describe in great detail and emotion his first attempted usurpation.

"What?" Jon gasped in shock. "You… you tried to kill Mommy and Auntie Anna?"

Hans buried his face in his hands. "It was such a horrible, despicable thing to do. Sometimes I still hate myself for it. But it's nothing compared to what I did three years later."

Elsa nodded solemnly. "Yes, Jon. But please understand that this was a long time ago. Your Auntie Anna and I have completely forgiven him. Uncle Hans has suffered tremendously for the things he did in the past. He has done so much to apologize and correct his mistakes. In fact, he saved my life on two separate occasions. He is a wonderfully changed man, and I am proud to consider him our friend."

At these words, Jon's shock abated slightly. "Uncle Hans, how did you save Mama's life?"

There was no turning back. Hans cringed at the thought of recounting all those repugnant thoughts and behaviors that he so desperately wanted to forever bury in his past. With a quavering sigh, he began the second part of his story. "It's a long story. After I was sent back home, I was put in the dungeons. I spent every waking moment hating Mommy and Auntie Anna. They ruined my plans. They took away my once chance at proving my worth. I felt I was entitled to a throne."

"One day, I bribed the guards into setting me free. As I was wandering through the wilderness, I stumbled upon a cottage hidden deep in the mountains. There lived an ancient sorcerer who was banished for practicing dark arts in the medieval era. I was young and foolish and full of hatred, and offered him a piece of my soul. In return he gave me a bag of magic tricks and a very special poison. After that, ten years ago this very day, I came to Arendelle for revenge…"

* * *

><p>"I spent some time around Arendelle in the two weeks before the Harvest Festival, making observations and collecting as much information as I could. I noticed that your mother had a soft spot for children, and I planned to use that against her. So I entered the Harvest Festival disguised as a magician. So many of people came to watch my magic show. That was when I put my plan into action."<p>

"What did you do?" Jon asked, completely enraptured by the incredulous story he was hearing.

"At the end of my show, I handed out drinks to the crowd. Each cup contained one serving of my very special poison. There were two hundred adults and five hundred children. They all drank it without suspecting a thing. You see, Jon. _That_ is why a lot of people in Arendelle don't like me!" Hans grimaced and began to tremble and sweat profusely. "It was awful. When I close my eyes, I can still hear the screams of people. See children on the ground, writhing in pain, drowning in a pool of their own blood and vomit and urine. Boys and girls your age, Jon… and some of them were Robbie's age or even younger. It felt so good at the time to see them suffer like that. But now when I think about it…" Hans' train of thought derailed into a mess of incoherent sobs and sniffles.

Elsa laid a comforting hand on his back. "Hans, it's okay. It's all in the past."

Jon was motionless and silent as he processed this plethora of groundbreaking information. Finally, a question formulated itself in his mind. "But Uncle Hans, if you wanted revenge on Mommy and Auntie Anna, then why did you poison those people?"

Hans calmed down again. "Glad you asked. You see, Jon, my main goal was to become King of Arendelle. I could only accomplish that by marrying one of them. I told your mother that I would give her the antidote only if she married me. She loved the people too much to let them die, so she agreed to it. At that point, I knew I had won. I got exactly what I wanted."

"Your mother agreed to marry me. That made me King of Arendelle. My dreams had come true. I had the power to boss people around and do whatever I wanted. Nobody could say _no_ to me, or tell me what to do. Jon, I'm sure your mother has taught you that there's more to being King than getting your way." The boy nodded in agreement.

Hans became shifting around uneasily, and very conspicuously avoided all eye contact with Elsa. "But I didn't realize that. I was so obsessed with having power. There is nothing more dangerous than an evil, selfish man having a lot of power. During this time, I did a lot of terrible things. I hurt your mother really badly. I punched and slapped her, left hundreds of bruises all over her body, touched her in very inappropriate ways..."

Jon had not failed to notice that Elsa had tensed up and was fighting back tears. "What did you do?" he queried.

Elsa cut in before Hans could say a word. "Jon, why don't we let Uncle Hans finish the story first? Then you can ask your questions." She clenched her jaw and prayed that by the time Hans was through, Jon would forget all about that aspect of the tale.

Jon shook his head firmly. "I want to know," he insisted. Then he shifted his attention back to his mother. "And don't say that I'm too young, or that you'll tell me when I'm older!"

Hans ground his teeth together and silently cursed his predicament. He too was hoping to avoid this discussion. "Jon, I'm not sure that is for me to tell. The point is—"

"Tell me!" Jon interrupted. Elsa turned to Hans and gave him a barely perceptible nod.

Hans took a deep breath. "Our private parts are not just used for peeing. When two people want to make a baby, the man sticks his penis in the woman's vagina, and squirts a special liquid inside her."

"Gross!" Jon shrieked.

"When a man forces a woman to do this, it's called rape. It feels good for the man, but is extremely painful for the woman. That is what I did to your mother."

"It still hurts to think about it." Elsa spoke in barely a whisper, with tears flowing freely down her cheeks. She peeked at Hans out the corner of one eye. "Sometimes I still have nightmares. I was absolutely terrified of men for a long time. It took a while before I could even feel safe around Daddy and Uncle Kristoff." At the mere mention, she hugged her knees to her chest and wept bitterly.

Jon was getting incredibly uncomfortable and contrite. He had never seen his mother cry, and was beginning to regret his persistent questioning. He had forced her to relive a memory that had clearly left her deeply scarred.

Hans came to the rescue. With the palm of his hand, he rubbed soothing circles into her back. When she began to calm down, he took both her hands gently into his own. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, with tears forming in his own eyes.

"Hans," she mumbled softly. "I forgave you many years ago. You need to forgive yourself too. Don't forget, you didn't actually do it. You almost did, but you didn't. You're a good man, and I know you would never hurt me." Now it was Elsa's turn to comfort Hans, as his heart and soul were ripped apart by bitter recollections of the wicked man he had once been.

* * *

><p>The rehashing of their past had had reopened raw, painful old wounds that both Hans and Elsa wished to forget. Several awkward, uncomfortable minutes passed before the emotions abated to the point where rational discourse could continue. Hans reached out a sympathetic hand to wipe away Elsa's tears, and squeezed her hand comfortingly. "So, where were we? Oh yes. I was so excited about being in a position of power. Like I said before, I promised I would hand over the antidote if your mother agreed to marry me. She kept her end of the deal. But the problem was, I didn't even have the antidote. I had been lying since Day One."<p>

"So how did the people get saved?" Jon asked.

Hans gritted his teeth. "Jon, your mother is a very clever woman. She is probably one of the most knowledgeable and scholarly people I have ever known. Read every book in the library seven times. She figured out that I didn't have the antidote. But by doing some research in the library, and by observing the symptoms in the poison victims, she was able to find the recipe for the antidote. That way, the people could be saved without her having to marry me. All this time, I wasn't aware of this. I had no idea that she had figured me out."

Now it was Elsa's turn to speak. "But things wouldn't be so simple. When I went to Grand Pabbie asking him to help us make the antidote, he told me that there was one ingredient the book forgot to mention. Do you know what the missing ingredient was?" Jon shook his head and leaned in closer.

Elsa spoke in barely a whisper. "The heart of an ice-bearer." The tears began to fall. "Grand Pabbie said he would have to take my heart in order to make the antidote. There was no other way."

Hans patted her on the back. "Not quite. You're alive, aren't you? So there _was_ another way. We'll get to that later."

"I knew what I had to do," Elsa mumbled, her head hanging low and her eyes fixed on the ground. "It had to be done. I couldn't let the people die. But I still held on to a glimmer of hope that Uncle Hans did have the antidote with him—even though deep down inside I knew he didn't. So I waited a few more days."

Hans picked up where she left off. "At this time, there was also a man in Arendelle named Captain Yorick. He did a lot of bad things, and your mother shamed him. He was angry and embarrassed, and wanted revenge. So one night, he broke into your mother's bedchambers and tried to kill her. But I killed Captain Yorick and saved her life."

"What did Captain Yorick do?" Jon asked.

Elsa waved her hand dismissively. "It's not important." She motioned for Hans to continue.

"Your mother actually felt sorry for Captain Yorick when she saw his dead body on the ground. It completely blew my mind away. How could she have sympathy for such an evil man? This is when I had a change of heart."

Hans took a deep breath and released it slowly. "All this time, I was so jealous of what your mother had: A loving family, a crown, and a kingdom full of people who absolutely adored her. It wasn't fair. I wanted what she had. But when I saw the way your mother interacted with others, I started to understand. The people loved her because she loved them first. Because she treated them with so much kindness and compassion. Because she never abused her power, and only used her position to do good. I was so touched by what I saw. I realized that I wanted a crown for all the wrong reasons, and I started feeling ashamed of the bad things I did."

"So did you hand over the antidote?" Jon asked.

Hans gave an empty, hollow laugh. "I didn't even have the antidote, remember? Now, this is where the story gets really ugly."

* * *

><p>"For the first time in forever, I was truly ashamed of my behavior. I felt so bad about the evil things I did, and I wished so desperately that I could somehow make things right. But the fact remained that I didn't have the antidote. Because of me, seven hundred innocent people—most of them children—would die a slow and painful death. I hated myself so much, I tried to end my life that night. But your mother stopped me. She told me that she found a recipe for the antidote, and asked me to come with her to get it. At this point, I had no idea that she would have to die for the antidote. I was so relieved that I had a chance to make things right. On that night, she said something that left such a deep impression on me. It stuck with me forever."<p>

"I did?" Elsa asked.

Hans nodded. "You told me, _Hans, you've spent your whole life trying to be a king. Now act like one! _It was then that I realized I truly had no idea how a king—or a queen—was supposed to act. Until you showed me."

Elsa blushed shyly. "Oh Hans, it's nothing. It's really not that big a deal."

"Nonsense," Hans punched her playfully in the shoulder. "Late that night, your mother and I left the castle to go visit Grand Pabbie. She seemed really sad and scared, and I had no idea why."

"Then I learned the truth. I was absolutely horrified when I found out your mother would have to die to make the antidote. I would be responsible for her death. Because of me, she would have her heart ripped out of her chest. I was on my knees, crying hysterically, begging the trolls to take my heart instead. But that was impossible, since I am not an ice-bearer. But more importantly, my heart was too rotten and devoid of love. So it had to be her heart."

"But Mama lived, didn't she? So what happened next?"

Hans smiled through his tears and patted Jon on the back. "What happened next was nothing short of a miracle. As Grand Pabbie was preparing to cut Mama open, he suddenly stopped. He said, _Come with me, Elsa. Your act of true love has saved_ _you_. Then he explained that she had so much love in her heart, more than what was humanly possible. Taking her heart would not be necessary. It would be enough to draw some blood."

Jon was on the edge of his seat. "So the antidote was made with your blood? And the people drank it?" Elsa nodded.

Jon grimaced and made a face. "That's kinda gross."

Hans sighed. "They were in so much pain, they would've done anything to be cured. People were scratching out their eyes, ripping out their hair, biting off their tongues. But I chose a poison that makes it impossible for anyone to die, until they have suffered for ten days."

"So when was the second time you saved Mama's life?"

"We're almost there. In order to make enough antidote for seven hundred people, Grand Pabbie had to take two liters of Mama's blood. It was absolutely horrible, the way he cut open her wrists and split the bone in half. He warned us that the injury would leave her without her powers for three days, and she might bleed to death."

"Is that why you have wrist problems?" Jon asked. Elsa nodded mutely.

Hans cleared his throat. "On our way back to Arendelle, we were attacked by wolves. Mama was thrown off her horse and fell into a ravine. I tried to climb in after her, but she insisted I go back and deliver the antidote. I refused to leave her behind. That's when she conjured up a horse made of snow, and it carried me back."

"That was my last bit of magic," Elsa chipped in. "I was powerless for the next three days."

Hans patted her sympathetically on the shoulder. "As I was riding back to Arendelle, I felt so good about myself. I thought I'd finally have the chance to make things right. I would have the antidote delivered, and the people would be saved. Then I'd lead a search party to rescue your mother from the wilderness. It sounded simple enough. But that's not what happened. As soon as I crossed the border, the guards had me arrested, and they threw away the antidote. I was so frustrated and angry. We—your mother, actually—went through all that pain and sacrifice to have the antidote made, and just like that, it was gone."

"Why were you arrested?" Jon asked.

Hans sighed. "They found her room in a complete wreck after the attempted murder by Captain Yorick. They thought I did that. They thought I killed her. No matter what I said, they wouldn't listen. I knew I would be put to death, but that didn't bother me. Death was the least I deserved. What really destroyed me on the inside was knowing that the antidote was gone forever. There was no way for those seven hundred people to be saved. And no one would send out a search party for your mother, since they thought she was already dead."

The next part of the story was Elsa's to tell. "Three days later, I was well enough to walk again. On my way home, I saw the empty bottle of antidote spilled all over the ground. I knew that something had gone wrong. So I went back to Grand Pabbie, and had him make a second bottle of antidote."

"Did it take more blood?" Jon asked.

Elsa nodded grimly. "Even more than the first time. I thought I'd die from the pain. But if the people could be saved, and Arendelle could be at peace again, it was all worth it. I rode back on my snow horse, just in time to deliver the antidote and stop Hans' execution."

Hans gave her a playful smirk. "I still remember that moment. You looked awfully sexy with all that blood on you. Hey, I just thought of something. If you were on your period at that time, I wonder if we could've used that for the—"

"Hans!" Elsa slapped him in the head. "You filthy pig!"

"Some things never change," Hans laughed flippantly. Then he became serious again. "Your mother came back just I was about to be executed. The antidote was successfully administered, and the people were all saved." Hans wiped away a tear and blinked hard. His voice was thick with emotion. "It warmed my heart to see the people getting well right before my very eyes. To see the wounds closing up. To see the consequences of my evil deeds being washed away. To see children running around, laughing and playing again. It was a miracle. A miracle of true love."

The tears began to fall. "But the doctors said that your mother would not survive. She had lost so much blood, and broke so many bones from being thrown off the cliff. The funeral preparations were already underway. It was heartbreaking."

Elsa reached out a hand to gently wipe away his tears. "And this was also the second time you'd save my life."

Hans nodded. "I knew I had to do something. It was my fault she was dying. I went back to visit the trolls, begging them to make us a healing potion. And they did. But it would cost me something."

"Remorse may not be as strong as love, but it as a powerful magic of its own." The former villain smiled and gestured at his maimed hand. At his missing index finger. "This was the key ingredient to the healing potion. I had to prove my repentance and be willing to suffer for my crimes. I had to sacrifice something. But after what I put your mother through, it was a small price to pay. I thought I hadn't been sufficiently punished yet."

"How were you punished?" Jon asked.

"There was one extra serving of poison, and some leftover antidote. I chose to take it. It would only be fair after everything I did to those poor innocent people."

Elsa winced at the memory. "It was awful. I could hear you screaming in pain from miles away. But you made me promise not to give you any antidote until the ten days were over."

Hans smiled. "I'm glad you kept that promise. Justice had to be served. But more importantly, I felt that a heavy burden had been lifted from my conscience. I felt free. Free from my pride, free from my bitterness, free from my hatred, and free from my very mistaken beliefs about kingship. Love is truly the strongest magic of all. Love can save lives, restore hope, move mountains, and redeem a man as vile and disgusting as Hans Sebastian Westergard. I was a changed man, and I felt it was my duty to share what I had experienced. This led me back home, to see my father and brothers. For too many years, they'd been lost in darkness. If they could see what I had seen, I just knew they would change too."

"Did they listen?" Jon inquired.

"My father did, but my brothers didn't. My brothers continued to be evil and selfish, the same way I used to be. That is why my father ultimately named me as the next King of the Southern Isles, even though I was his youngest son. He saw in me a broken heart and a contrite spirit. A willingness to change. So he trusted that I could rule a kingdom justly and well." Hans winked at Elsa. "Because I learned from the best."

Elsa blushed. "Hans, stop!"

Hans pinched her cheek teasingly. "You know it's true. But Jon, this is the point I'm trying to make. This is the reason we want you to hear this story. Your mother was willing to lay down her life to save seven hundred people whose names and faces she hardly knew. She left her throne, laid down her crown—and all the privileges and perks that come with it—and sacrificed herself for a bunch of ordinary people. It did not matter at all that she was royalty, and they were not. That is how she earned her statue. That is how she earned the love and admiration of the people."

"A crown is an instrument for making a positive difference in the world. As the ruling monarch of a nation, you have tremendous power. But that power is meant to be used with love. The people are entrusting their lives to you, and you owe it to yourself, to them, and to God, to rule with wisdom and compassion. Every life is precious, and every human being deserves to be treated with kindness and respect, no matter what their social status is. Until I had this _adventure_ with your mother, I didn't realize that. But now I do. That is why I am no longer the evil man I was ten years ago."

"I believe we've covered everything. Jon, I hope you learned something today."


	15. A Very Frosty Christmas

**Whew! Now Jon knows the truth about his dear Uncle Hans.**** And now we know a little about WHY Hans' father and brothers were so awful in ****Playing Dirty****. **

**Things will start looking up a bit in this chapter. But there is a major plot twist coming up ****very soon****!**

**Chapter 15:**

All was silent for nearly ten minutes as Jon sat in intense contemplation, trying to digest the massive flood of information that had inundated his mind. The nine year-old felt disillusioned and shocked to his core, to know that his dear Uncle Hans had once been such a wicked, depraved man. The dreadful anagnorisis had thrown his worldview into disarray, torn asunder all his preexisting beliefs, and demolished his sanctuary of naivete into a pile of rubble. How could Uncle Hans, whom he loved and admired so deeply, have such a wretched past? But the tears that were shed and the angst that permeated the room convinced him beyond any doubt that the story had been told in complete, unembellished detail.

Even more astonishing was the revelation of what his mother had been through. Jon continued to shake his head in numb disbelief. She had given so much, made so many sacrifices, and single-handedly turned a murderous sociopath into someone so kind and caring. Jon had always known his mother was an incredible person, but never in his wildest dreams could he have fathomed the immense mental and physical agony she had suffered out of love.

Tears welled in the boy's eyes. After all the turmoil his mother had suffered, the last thing she needed was an obstreperous, ill-mannered son. After all she had sacrificed in the name of love and duty, the last thing she deserved was an heir who felt entitled to unmerited respect. Elsa had lived through more horrors than most people would endure in a thousand lifetimes, but was completely devoid of bitterness. She was a wonderful mother, and never treated him or Robert with anything less than complete and unconditional love. No matter how busy she was with her duties, she never failed to set aside time for them every day.

A wave of guilt and shame washed over him. Jon suddenly broke down into tears. Elsa quickly pulled him into a hug.

Jon finally found his voice after several minutes of unintelligible coughing and sputtering. "I'm sorry, Mama. I never knew."

Elsa planted a kiss on his cheek. "Sweetie, you have nothing to be sorry about. It's all in the past. Uncle Hans and I are at peace with it now. It taught us things, and made us both better people."

Jon shook his head. "No, I'm sorry about me. The way I've been behaving. Oh Mama, I've been such a horrible son. You deserve so much better…"

"Don't say that, snowflake. You are a wonderful son. You are kind, caring, and smart, and one day you will make a great king." She gently pushed Jon back and brushed away his tears with the back of her hand. "People make bad choices when they're angry or hurt, or feel that they've been wronged. But just like Uncle Hans, it's important that we don't allow these negative experiences to define us. It's okay to be upset, as long as we don't become bitter. Remember what I taught you? Love will thaw. And love will heal."

Jon buried his face into Elsa's shoulder, "But I've been so awful… I've been treating everyone so badly…"

Elsa had to blink back her own tears at that statement. "Jon, it is never too late to turn around. You can never be so far lost, that you are beyond the reach of love. As long as we own up to our mistakes and make a conscious effort to change, there is always hope. But we must be able to forgive ourselves first."

Hans decided to intervene. "As you now know, I have done things that would make Satan vomit. Jon, I don't know what you've done, but I guarantee that it does not compare to the things I did in the past. If someone like me could wipe the slate clean and have a fresh start, then anyone can."

These words struck a chord. Jon gave a pensive sigh. "I guess you're right. I'll try."

Elsa reached out to smooth his hair. "I know you can do it, snowflake."

Hans let out a jocular laugh and resumed his lighthearted, flippant demeanor. "All right, that's enough depressing talk for one day. How about we go down to the fairgrounds, and challenge Auntie Anna to some pig-wrestling? Loser buys ice cream."

Jon smiled mischievously. "Let's do it!" With a whoop of laughter, he leapt up from where he was sitting, and dragged Hans out the door and down the hall.

Hans swung back and poked his head into the door frame. "You coming, Frosty?"

Elsa gave a polite little smile. "In a minute. But I won't be pig-wrestling."

Hans cracked a grin. "Who knew that the Snow Queen was such a giant pussy? Anyways, when I'm wrestling with those pigs, I'll just imagine that it's you I'm on top of, trying to pin down on the—

"Hans, that's disgusting!" Elsa turned beet-red with embarrassment.

"How about the Bean Bag Toss? I'm pretty good at putting things in your hole—"

"Knock it off!" The ambient temperature plummeted.

_Come on, Frosty, you're smarter than that. Don't you realize that as long as you keep giving me a reaction, I'll never stop?_ Hans reached out a hand and squeezed her thigh. "What's the matter, Frosty? Not your time of the month? You know, I've got a special device called Hans' Magic Wand that you can use to plug up that leaky faucet. It's so effective, you won't have periods for the next nine months. Why don't you come to my room so I can show you?"

"Hans, enough!" A blast of snow knocked him off his feet, and sent Hans crashing bottom-first into the floor. Although Jon had no idea what was going on and was completely ignorant to the innuendoes of Hans' comments, he laughed and giggled uncontrollably at their incredibly juvenile behavior.

Hans rubbed his sore bottom and clambered back to his feet, smirking ear to ear. "All right, all right! Geez, Frosty! You need to calm your dramatic ass down!"

* * *

><p>Three months had passed since Hans' visit. Autumn gave way to winter, and air was filled with the sweet fragrance of fresh, natural snow. The town was heavily adorned with Christmas-themed decorations, including several life-sized Nativity scenes crafted out of ice. People could be heard whistling yuletide melodies as they went about their daily business. Festivity and merriment permeated the simplest social interactions.<p>

The royal family was no exception to the very pervasive atmosphere of holiday goodwill. Jon still had regular episodes of angry outbursts, but substantial gains had been made. Before he had learned of Elsa and Hans' shared history, he would lash out almost every single day. In the wake of the revelation, the frequency of such conflagrations had diminished to several times per month.

Whenever Jon lost control and showed aggressive or abusive behavior, it continued to upset Elsa, and she would deal with him accordingly. But she was greatly encouraged and reassured by the long-term trend. Jon was certainly moving in the right direction.

On Christmas morning, Jon awoke to a persistent knocking on his door and the excited pattering of footsteps. "What do you want?" he growled in annoyance.

"Let's go open our presents!" Robbie yelled back. "Come on, come on!" The younger boy jiggled the doorknob and began hopping up and down excitedly.

Jon gave an exasperated sigh through clenched teeth and started to send Robbie away. But as he glanced out the window and was greeted by the joyous sight of a winter wonderland and a most picturesque Christmas celebration, his irritation dissolved away. There was nothing more beautiful and innocent than lights shimmering against freshly fallen snow. Jon quickly got dressed and pushed the door open.

Robert was positively beaming with excitement as Jon stepped out into the hall. "Merry Christmas, Jon! Let's go see what we got!"

The five-year-old's effervescence was contagious. As hesitant as he was to return the gesture, as firmly convinced he was that things could never go back to the way they used to be, Jon couldn't help cracking a smile. It was a demure, emotionless smile. But it was a smile nonetheless.

"Merry Christmas, Robbie." Without another word, Jon allowed himself to be dragged downstairs.

The rest of the family was already gathered around a fifty-foot tree made out of solid ice. Elsa was crouched behind a mound of boxes, with her head buried in an enormous jar of chocolate truffles. As her sons burst into the room, she quickly straightened up and desperately tried to wipe her face clean and tuck her chocolate-covered hands out of sight. But it was too late. Evidence of her childish transgression stood in plain view for all to see.

The Snow Queen blushed a deep crimson and grinned sheepishly. "Good morning, boys."

Robert threw himself into her arms. "Merry Christmas, Mommy!"

Then he disentangled himself and dove into a massive pile of presents. "Look! Look! Look! I got that new sled I wanted! Thank you, Uncle Kristoff!" The little boy danced about in excitement, his eyes glowing with wonder and affection at the sleek wooden sled, complete with fresh lacquer and designed to aesthetic and aerodynamic perfection. "Jon, Kristen! Let's go try it out!"

_Why didn't I get something like that?_ Jon instinctively began seething with jealousy and rage at the comparatively mundane items in his pile of gifts. _It's not fair!_ His most extravagant gift couldn't have cost half as much as Robbie's new sled. This blatant, unabashed show of preferential treatment had Jon clenching his fists and involuntarily sending a trickle of frost up the walls. The nine year-old turned to his mother and began to furiously open his mouth, preparing to decry the injustice.

But his indignation faltered as a closer glance revealed that the sled was two-seated. It was a gift meant to be shared, and Robbie had not hesitated to extend the invitation. With a shrug and a little half-smile, he followed his brother and cousin out to the snowy slopes.

**More to come! Let's find out if Jon continues in the right direction!**


	16. The Heir and the Spare

**Thank you so much to everyone who is reading and reviewing! Yup, Hans is still a pervert even after all these years. Some things never change.**

**Chapter 16:**

_One year later…_

"Jon?" Six year-old Robert began timidly, "Can you help me with my math homework? I don't get it."

Ten year-old Jon gave a cavalier shrug. "Ask Mama to help you."

"But Mama is busy right now," Robert protested. His comment was not without ulterior motives. No matter how busy Elsa was, she would never hesitate to drop whatever she was doing to patiently walk him through all the arcane principles of mathematics, until a clear picture emerged. It was Jon's companionship and attention that he truly craved.

"I've got things to do."

"Please!" Robbie begged, with tears of desperation welling in his eyes. "I have a test tomorrow!"

"All right, then." Jon followed Robbie into the library and seated himself at the table across from his brother. A book full of very rudimentary math problems lay open on the tabletop. Jon glanced at the marked pages and had to choke back an incredulous snort. _Seriously? You think THIS is hard?_

"Thirty-seven plus nineteen." Jon drew a horizontal line underneath the numbers and sketched an addition sign in the lower left hand corner. "First, we add the one's place. How would you do that?"

Robbie counted on his fingers. "Seven plus nine is… sixteen?"

"Yes," Jon nodded. "Now, what do we do with that sixteen?" He handed the pen to his younger brother. Robert hastily scrawled the number sixteen underneath the horizontal line, and proceeded to add the ten's place.

"No!" Jon slapped his forehead in frustration. "That doesn't make any logical sense. Think about it. Thirty-seven is almost forty, and nineteen is almost twenty. Forty plus twenty is sixty. So the answer should be close to sixty! It can't possibly be four hundred sixteen! You're off by an entire order of magnitude!"

"What does that mean?" Robert's bright green eyes were wide with innocent confusion.

"Never mind." Jon waved his hand dismissively. "Anyways, you're supposed to carry the one, so the answer is fifty-six."

"Why?"

The older boy sighed. In addition to inheriting Elsa's icy magic, Jon had also taken after both his parents' intelligence. His math and language skills had always been two to three years ahead of what was typical for a child his age. How Robbie could have trouble understanding something so simple was beyond him. Maybe Elsa froze his brain while she was pregnant with him.

"Because you're supposed to!" Jon asserted in a forceful tone. Not wanting to further upset his brother, Robbie nodded propitiatingly and asked no more questions.

"Now, how about the subtraction problems? Sixty-three minus twenty-seven. What do you think?"

Several tense seconds ticked by, before Robbie finally ventured a guess. "Forty-four?"

Jon raised his eyebrows. "Where did you get forty-four?"

The younger brother gestured with his index finger. "Six minus two is four. And three can't minus seven, so I did seven minus three."

Jon tried unsuccessfully to suppress the irritation from his voice. "You can't do that. It doesn't work that way." Before Robert could articulate his confusion, Jon continued in a fast, furious tone. He was so annoyed, his explanation was haphazard at best. But he hardly noticed or cared. "You borrow a ten from the six! The three becomes a thirteen, and the six becomes a five, because it gave one away! Now you have fifty minus twenty, and thirteen minus seven, so the answer is thirty-six."

Robert was thoroughly bewildered, but dared not ask any questions, as he heard the impatience in Jon's voice and felt the temperature in the library plummeting. He merely nodded in complete silence.

"All right, let's try again." Jon circled another problem in the math book. "Forty-one minus twenty-four."

Robbie's voice was barely a high-pitched whisper. "Twenty-three?"

"No, you idiot!" Jon slammed his fists on the table. "What were you thinking?"

The younger boy's lower lip quivered and his nose reddened, as a single tear slid down the side of his face. "I don't know," he managed in a terrified whimper.

"That's the problem!" Jon shouted. "You don't think at all! You're not even trying!"

"Yes I am!" Robbie howled miserably as more tears streamed down his cheeks. "You don't have to be so mean!"

"I am _not_ mean! You're just too stupid!" Jon yelled angrily, before reaching out to slam the book shut. "I give up! I've leaving!" He leapt to his feet.

Robert threw himself onto the floor and clung to his brother's leg. "Jon, wait!"

"Leave me alone!" Jon kicked and squirmed furiously, trying to free himself.

"No!" Robbie fought to maintain his grip, tears continuing to blur his vision. "Please, I'm sorry I'm so stupid! I promise I'll do it right! Give me one more chance!"

"I told you to let me go!" Jon grabbed the math book and whacked Robert in the head, sending loose sheets of paper scattering through the air. The six year-old emitted a shrill cry of heartbreak and betrayal.

The commotion would not go unnoticed, as eleven year-old Kristen, who had been reading quietly next door, poked her head into the room. "What's going on in here?"

Jon pointed furiously. "Robbie is being a complete idiot, that's what!"

"I didn't mean to," Robbie sniveled. He coughed and wheezed incoherently through his sobs, choking on his own tears and mucus. "Please, Jon, c-can you help me one m-more time? I really am trying… and I… I have a t-test tomorrow."

"Does it look like I care?" Jon spat. "Why should I care if you fail your test? If your tutor yells at you? Go ahead and fail!"

"Jon, stop it!" Kristen snapped indignantly.

"What?" Jon asked, annoyed. "He's a stupid, worthless little crybaby."

The red-haired girl looked her cousin straight in the eye. "Your mother wouldn't talk to anyone like that."

"So what?" Jon snapped. "Why do I have to be like my mother, anyways?"

"Because you are the Crown Prince of Arendelle! Others will look to you for leadership and guidance! You can't keep treat people this way!"

Jon's pale cheeks flushed crimson with anger and mortification, and his heart palpitated wildly. Deep down inside, he knew that she was right. But she had no business shaming her future king in such a manner. Kristen was older and taller than he, but the fact remained that Jon outranked everyone in this kingdom except for his mother.

"You said it yourself. I am the Crown Prince of Arendelle, and your future king! Don't tell me what to do!"

Kristen had inherited her mother's boldness and her father's strong sense of fair play. She would not allow herself to be intimidated into silence and acquiescence. "If this is how you treat people when you're upset, then you'll be a pretty pathetic king one day."

In a fit of rage, Jon threw his hands forward and struck his cousin in the head with a vicious bolt of ice that shook the entire room. The girl froze in midair before crumpling motionlessly to the floor. A faint crackling sound interrupted the deathly silence, before a streak of white began spiraling through her reddish-orange hair.

Robbie's eyes widened with terror. "Mommy!" he screamed hysterically, bolting out the door and down the hall.

Jon fell to his knees, mouth agape and eyes wide with consternation. He grabbed Kristen by the shoulders and shook her vigorously. _What have I done?_

* * *

><p>A furious beat of footsteps thundered down the hall towards the library, before the door flew open to reveal a red-faced Elsa, followed closely by Anna and Kristoff. Robbie clung to his mother's dress, still sniffling.<p>

Kristoff flung himself onto the floor and picked up his daughter's limp, unconscious form. "She's ice cold," he said breathlessly. "We have to get her to Grand Pabbie." Anna nodded vigorously. Without another word, and refusing to look in Jon's direction, they made a mad dash for the stables.

As the passionate beat of hooves slowly died down in the distance, Elsa turned to fix her gaze on her oldest son. "Jon," her voice was dangerously soft. "You'd better have a good explanation for this."

Jon was in shock over what he had done, but his defiance flared at his mother's accusatory tone and Robert's obsequious sniveling. He gave a recalcitrant, mouthy comeback. "What is there to explain? I'm sure Tattletale Robbie already told you everything." But Jon gulped and instantly swallowed his impudence, as Elsa grabbed the front of his shirt. His mother had never laid a hand on him before.

"Jon, what did you think you were doing? You could've killed your cousin!" The ten year-old could only continue to pout indignantly.

"I taught you how to use your powers! You know better than to act like this!"

"I _know_ how to use my powers!" Jon snapped back.

"Not for abuse!" Elsa tried to keep calm, but her voice trembled with rage. "Your abuse of power and your outlandish sense of entitlement have me questioning whether or not I can leave Arendelle in your charge."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Jon, watch your language!"

"Fine!" The single syllable exploded from his lips, hot and angry.

"And don't roll your eyes at me!"

"Oh yeah? You think you can—" Jon furiously started to argue. But he fell silent as Elsa shot him an icy glare.

"I hate to do this, but you leave me no choice." Her voice softened, and tears welled in the corners of her eyes. But there was an undercurrent of steely determination beneath Elsa's fragile façade. "There is a place in this castle for people who cannot behave like civilized human beings. Come with me."

"What is this place?" Jon demanded.

Elsa gave no response. She merely grabbed Jon by the hand and led him out the door.

As they passed through a cold, drafty corridor and descended yet another stony staircase, Jon felt a strange sense of foreboding. Then he gasped as realization dawned upon him. His pride and impudence instantly evaporated like snow on a summer day. "The dungeons! Mama, please! You can't!"

Elsa shook her head in shame and heartbreak. "I'm sorry Jon, but I must show you this place."

Tears welled in his eyes as he clutched her dress and let out a piteous wail. "Please, Mama! Don't leave me down here!" The dim light of torches cast eerie, foreboding shadows across the floors and walls. Jon trembled with terror.

Elsa felt her heart break at these words, but she stood her ground. She could not allow emotions to weaken her resolve, lest she set a precedent of allowing Jon to negotiate and wheedle his way out of punishment.

Elsa took a deep breath and tried to maintain an even tone. "Jon, if this behavior continues, I cannot let you inherit the throne."

"What?" Jon shrieked incredulously. He could hardly believe his ears. "But Mama, I am your firstborn! This is my birthright!"

"You became the Crown Prince of Arendelle by birth. But you must also show the character traits necessary to maintain that position. Your title does not exempt you from being a courteous and civilized person. If you can't understand that, then your brother will be the next King of Arendelle."

"I'm smarter and better than Robbie! I was way ahead of him in my lessons when I was his age!" Jon protested. The cold didn't bother him, but the boy began shivering violently at the dark shadows and cavernous depths of the dungeons.

"Your brother can learn the academics. But I'm starting to doubt whether or not you can ever learn empathy." Tears shone in her bright blue eyes, and her tone softened into a desperate, pleading whimper. Elsa hated having to utter these words, but they had to be said. "Please, Jon… show me that you can be the loving, caring young man I know you are. You will always be my son. But unless you fix your attitude, you will no longer be my heir."

On that note, Elsa slowly turned and stepped out of the cell, closing the door in her wake. "Think about what you've done. I will be back in two hours."

**Prince Brat has been put in time-out… in the dungeons.**


End file.
